


Teach me how

by flyingbluebirds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Dealing with PTSD, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, Sane Bellatrix, Slow Burn, kinda grey Hermione, they obviously hate each other, until they suddenly don't
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27866081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingbluebirds/pseuds/flyingbluebirds
Summary: Still dealing with the effects of the war, Hermione returns to Hogwarts to become the new Transfiguration teacher. A new Ministry decree, forces her to work together with Bellatrix Black, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The two absolutely loathe each other, and each of them has their own demons to fight. So, what could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange
Comments: 121
Kudos: 371
Collections: Favorite





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey,  
> Since my newly found obsession with Bellamione is probably the only good thing 20020 brought me and this idea has been stuck in my head for quite a while, I thought I'd give writing another try. I have already roughly planned out the plot for this, so I hope I will be able to update regularly. There will be some changes from canon and if my patience let me, this will be very slow-burn lol. Please be gentle, this is only my second attempt at writing and English is not my first language.   
> Comments are very much appreciated, x

**Chapter 1**

Hermione shivered. But, while it was a rather cold spring day, the main reason for her discomfort did not lie in the terrible weather, it was caused by the building in front of her. The young witch took a deep breath and let her gaze wander over the place she used to call her home. Hogwarts still held a very special place in her heart – so many happy memories were connected to this castle – but it also brought back memories of great loss. Memories she would rather keep down hidden deep in a place in her mind. Memories she would need to keep hidden – or else she would not be able to do this.

It has been almost a year since the battle of Hogwarts was won. Unlike most of her friends Hermione did not return to the school to finish her last year. Instead she spent her time travelling, researching and processing everything that had happened. She had known the war would claim many victims. She had thought she would be prepared for watching her friends die. She had thought she would be able to deal with the loss.

The first time she realized that she was wrong was when she saw Fenrir Greyback pulling his claws deep inside Lavender Brown’s neck, a huge grin on his face – She still woke up from the sounds of Lavender’s screams in her head.

The second time she realized that she was wrong was when she found George sobbing on the ground – his dead twin brother in is arms, the smile from the joke he just told still on his lips.

The third time she realized she was wrong was when she entered the great hall only moments later. The hall was filled with battle screams and cries. She got distracted for a split second, shooting a spell in the direction of a Death Eater dueling Tonks in a corner. She saw the burst of green lighting aimed at her way too late. She had no time to react. But the spell never hit its intended target.

After this, everything was a blur. She remembered another blast of green hitting the Death Eater who targeted her, Harry screaming, her turning around, then Remus Lupin running her way, trying to block her view from the scene in front of her. But it was too late – the image of her dead best friend already carved into her head forever.

She was supposed to die that night. The spell was meant for her. Instead, Molly Weasley had to burry not one but two sons after the battle. Ron had thrown himself right between her and the killing curse.

His death broke something deep inside Hermione. She just couldn’t get herself to return to Hogwarts after the battle. The loss of her best friend was just too fresh, her mind too fragile, her spirit too broken. She spent the last months trying to deal with the guilt. She kept in touch with Harry and Ginny, their letters helping her to slowly start healing. It was them who encouraged her to accept McGonagall’s offer. She had spent a couple of days in the Romanian forest, collecting some rare potions ingredients when the letter of the headmistress had reached her.

_Dearest Miss Granger,_

_I hope you are well and your travels manage to offer you some peace and quiet. I know the past few months have been especially tough for you, which is why I did not take the decision to reach out to you lightly. However, time is not on my side and I am in urgent need of your assistance. As you may know, I have taken over the position as headmistress of Hogwarts after the death of Severus Snape, which is why I will not be able to keep teaching Transfiguration for the upcoming school year. Finding a replacement has turned out to be trickier than expected. Miss Granger, you have always been one of my brightest and frankly, one of the most talented students I ever had the honor of teaching. I feel like, despite your young age, you would be more than capable of sharing your knowledge with the students of Hogwarts. I would be honored to offer you the position as Hogwarts’ new transformation teacher. Please consider my offer thoroughly and meet me in two weeks in the castle to discuss the details._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

Hermione knew deep down that coming back to Hogwarts was the right decision. She needed to get her life back in order. After all, this is what Ron would have wanted – otherwise, he would have died for nothing. She just wasn’t sure if she could actually do that.

The sound of footsteps pulled Hermione out of her thoughts. She raised her head and saw Hagrid making his way from the castle towards the gate.

“’Mione!” He grumbled while turning his keys to open the gate. “Glad that you decided to come. C’mon McGonagall is in her office. Password’s Epoximise.”

After Hagrid pulled Hermione in a big bear hug, he walked her up to the entrance to McGonagall’s office in the West Towers, purposefully avoiding any of the areas that could trigger flashbacks from the war for the young witch. The half-giant gave Hermione one last encouraging shoulder pet and then left her in front of the gargoyles guarding McGonagall’s office. She murmured “Epoximise.”, took another deep breath and walked up the stairs that had just been revealed in front of her.

* * *

Hermione looked around the room. The Headmistress’ office looked almost exactly like Hermione remembered. McGonagall added only a few personal touches, a picture of her favorite Quidditch Team on the desk, a couple of very thick transformation books in the corner. She was sitting on a chair, opposite the older witch and tried her best to contain the nervous feeling in her stomach.

McGonagall gave her a warm smile. “Miss Granger. I am so glad you decided to consider my proposal.”

“To be honest, it took quite some convincing from everyone.” Hermione admitted. “But I guess, it’s the right thing to do and the more I’ve been thinking about, the more I feel like I will actually enjoy teaching.”

McGonagall smiled at that. “Yes, I am sure you will. I believe during your time at Hogwarts you already spent more time teaching your fellow classmates than any other student.” She chuckled, then her tone grew more serious again. “I believe you are more than capable to do this job. However, there will be some complications.” Hermione nodded. “You mean the new ministry regulations, right?”, she replied.

Hermione had spent a great amount of the last weeks catching up on the new educational decrees set by the Ministry. Apparently, the Ministry finally realized that having people that never actually learned proper teaching educating their children might not be the smartest idea and might even lead to one of them being a criminal in disguise or a man hiding one of the darkest wizards of all time on the backside of his head.

As a consequence, it was decided that from now on every new teacher of Hogwarts would need to go through a proper teaching training. One of Hogwarts established teachers would act as a supervisor, meaning they would regularly watch and evaluate classes and offer support and advice. The training would be concluded by a formal examination of one lesson by a delegation of Ministry officials. Only after successfully passing that examination, Hermione would be considered a proper teacher at Hogwarts.

McGonagall stood up from her chair and started pacing through the room. “Excatly. I should have known you’d spent your time informing yourself about all of this”, she gave Hermione and approving nod and continued, “I am fairly confident that you will pass the examination with flying colors, but I will be completely honest with you here. Finding a supervisor for you has not been particularly easy. I would usually do it myself, but with all the changes happening, I am already in a bit of a struggle to fulfill my duties as headmistress.” Hermione was confused at that; she had been certain that McGonagall would end up being her mentor.

The headmistress seemed to sense her confusion and continued. “To say Hogwarts is understaffed would be an understatement, the only teacher with enough capacity to mentor you is Professor Black.”

Hermione couldn’t suppress a shocked gasp. She was about to interrupt her former professor but the woman just put a reassuring hand on her shoulder and went on. “Before you freak out, let me assure you she would not have been my first choice. I know you two didn’t get along exactly well during your time here as a student and I am also well aware of the fact that Miss Black can have quite a temper-“

“Understatement of the century…”

“However,” McGonagall interrupted, now a bit sharper, “She is one of the most capable witches this school has ever seen and you will learn a lot from her. Don’t forget that she also suffered very much during the war, give this a chance.”

Hermione thought about McGonagall’s words for a while. To say she and Bellatrix Black had a complicated relationship would be an extenuation. During her time at Hogwarts, Bellatrix Black had shared the position of Hogwarts Transfiguration teacher with McGonagall and had then taken over as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher after Professor Moody turned out to be a criminal in disguise.

Black’s reputation proceeded her. Her classes were feared by the students. Black was very strict, her expectations exceptionally high and she had absolutely no tolerance for failure. She demanded respect from her students, but did not always show respect in return. Every student was completely intimidated by the woman, Hermione included. Still, she had gotten into countless arguments with her teacher. Hermione felt like the woman absolutely despised her and it really did not help that Black was raised by one of the most prestigious pureblood families of the Wizarding World – which made the muggleborn Hermione even more worthless in her eyes.

So now Black was supposed to give her helpful advice and support during her training?

Great.

What could possibly go wrong?

While she was never convicted, there had been many rumors of Black being a Death Eater during the first war. So, it had surprised nobody when Professor Black finally seemed to show her true colors and openly pledged her allegiance to Voldemort when he returned to power. She helped Snape to take over the school, and when she wasn’t with him, she was always at Voldemort’s side as one of his most trusted advisers. However, nobody expected what Harry saw in Dumbledore’s pensive after he collected Snape’s memories, the last gift of a dying man. The revelation of Voldemort having not only one but two spies within his rows came as a surprise to almost everyone. Both Black and Snape had secretly passed on information to the order all along.

Still, the Wizarding community remained skeptical towards the witch. Years and years of mistrust and hatred just did not vanish overnight.

Hermione herself also did not quite know what to make of the woman. She might not have been the villain everyone made her out to be, but she still made Hermione’s time at Hogwarts far less enjoyable. She bullied the girl at every given occasion, gave her countless detentions for the smallest reasons and always pushed her to work a little harder than all of her classmates.

However, in the end Hermione had to admit that she never learned more than she did in Black’s classes. The woman even fascinated her in a way. While she clearly had a temper, Black was a very skilled witch with deep knowledge of the most difficult spells and curses. Her practical presentations in class had always been flawless and rumor had it she was one of the strongest Legilimens the Wizarding World had ever seen. 

This was probably why, despite her better judgement, Hermione came to a decision. She raised her head and looked McGonagall in the eyes. “Okay.”, she agreed in a firm and steady voice, “Let’s do this.”

She was not quite sure what she had gotten herself into….


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. Thank you for all the comments and kudos I received so far. It's my first proper fic so this is all very excited haha. I also feel like I'm still pretty shit at writing dialgoues - promise this will get better in the future. Anyway, I hope you guys like this.  
> Feel free to leave comment  
> xx

It was the evening of September 1, the new school year at Hogwarts would properly start tomorrow. Hermione looked around the Great Hall. It felt weird sitting at the teacher’s table, looking down at the students who were currently settling down at their house tables, but she could definitely get used to her new position.

Hermione had arrived at the school earlier that day and spent most of her time settling into her quarters. Her rooms were surprisingly spacious, no comparison to the rather small student dorms. She basically had a little apartment all to herself, a private bathroom, a comfortable living room and a separate bedroom. Her quarters even included a small kitchen, on which Hermione insisted. She really didn’t want to call for one of the House Elves whenever she couldn’t make it the meals in the great hall. They already had enough to do as it was. The rooms had felt a bit cold at first but after spending a great amount of her afternoon with setting up pictures, changing most of the colors to a Gryffindor red and putting the piles of books, that she just couldn’t leave behind, into the shelves, it actually already felt a little bit like home.

The Great Hall started to fill with more and more students. It was almost time for the sorting ceremony. Hermione was seated between Professor Sprout and Professor Flitwick, both happily chatting along, completely over the moon to have the bright witch back at the school. Hermione was just rambling on about some rare plants she found during her time in Bulgaria, when she noticed the last two teachers arriving at their table.

McGonagall had put on her festive robes. She was in deep conversation with non-other than Professor Black, walking beside her. Hermione couldn’t stop herself from staring at the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Even though she hadn’t seen her in over a year, the witch barely changed at all. Her attire was still completely black. She was wearing an expensive-looking, black corset, that was hugging her figure in a way that might even be considered inappropriate for a teacher, complemented by a black satin dress and robes that looked more expensive than anything Hermione ever owned in her entire life. Her hair has gotten a bit shorter than she remembered, reaching only up until right below her shoulder blades. But the mass of black curls still framed her face in a way that made Hermione wonder what kind of spell the older witch used to find just the right way between chaotic mess and undeniably elegant.

Hermione got startled by her own thoughts. At what point did she start to put so much thought into the way Professor Black dressed? She forced herself to shift her focus away from the raven-haired witch who just took her seat at the other end of the table, blissfully unaware of Hermione’s curious gaze. Hermione preferred to keep it that way, so she let her eyes wander across the Great Hall, right in time to watch Hagrid guide the group of giddy first year students through the rows. The sorting ceremony was about to begin.

The young witch excitedly watched one student after another getting sorted into their houses and happily clapped along to every decision the Sorting Hat made, maybe clapping a little bit louder whenever one of the children got sorted into Gryffindor. Despite all, she never quite lost her house pride.

Once the ceremony was over, Hermione took a closer look at the new Gryffindor students, who, by now, sat down at one of the large tables below her. Three first year students caught her eye, two boys and a girl. All three were chatting along quite animatedly. The way the girl just let out a gasp, loud enough for even Hermione to hear, when she discovered Nearly Headless Nick floating through the hall. Hermione figured she was most likely muggleborn. The boys were teasing the astonished girl but she just shot some sort of snappy comment back at them, which caused one of the boy’s heads to turn into a deep crimson.

It all reminded Hermione a lot of the way she, Harry and Ron interacted during their early years at Hogwarts. Harry, who turned out to become one of the best friends she could ever ask for. Ron, who always managed to make her smile with some silly comment. Ron, who always tried to protect her. Ron who would never be able to turn bright red at one of her teasing jokes. Ron, who died for her. Right here. In this very room. Only a few feet away from the place she was sitting now, laughing about some silly joke Professor Sprout made only a few minutes ago. Hermione could feel herself spiraling. Her breathing quickened, she could feel her palms getting sweaty and it felt as if the room around her started to turn. What was she doing here? She wasn’t supposed to be here at all. The sounds around her blurred into a constant buzzing, making it impossible for her to focus on anything.

Memories came flooding back to her now. Ron begging her to help him out with his Charms essay. Ron staring with cold, dead eyes up the ceiling of the Great Hall. Ron laughing about finally beating her in a game of Wizard Chess. Ron lying motionless on the ground, surrounded by his mourning family. Hermione had to focus. She couldn’t break down. Not here. Not Now. Not when everyone was watching. She forced herself to slowly breathe in and out and started with one of the coping techniques she had grown accustomed to over the last months.

She tried to name five things she could see around her.

 _The silver goblet on the table in front of her._ Good.

_The golden bracelet around her wrist._

_The star-covered ceiling of the Great Hall._ She could do that.

_The burning lanterns on the walls._

_The ancient, brown sorting hat, still sitting on a chair right in front of the teacher’s table._

Slowly, the sounds around her started to come back to Hermione. She could make out the stern voice of Professor McGonagall, welcoming the students back to Hogwarts and reminding them of the rules. Hermione was about to move forward with her coping technique and tried to name four things she could touch around her, when she finally managed to calm down enough to make out the word McGonagall was saying. “… in addition to that, I am very pleased to welcome Miss Hermione Granger back at Hogwarts. She will take over the position as Transfiguration teacher for the upcoming school year.” She sent a warm smile in Hermione’s direction and the young witch reacted on autopilot. _Stand up. Wave. Smile. Wait until the applause faded. Sit back down again._

By the end of McGonagall’s speech, she actually managed to pull herself back together again. She carefully looked around but it appeared as if nobody noticed the distress Hermione was in only a few minutes ago. She felt a wave of relief flash over her – that left her almost immediately when she noticed Professor Black starring at her from the other end of the table. Hermione lifted her gaze, and her brown eyes locked with the piercing black ones of her former Professor. The woman was wearing a look on her face that Hermione couldn’t quite interpret. If she wouldn’t have known better she’d say the woman looked at her understanding, almost concerned. Hermione broke the eye contact and stared down at her knees. Then, turned around and purposefully avoided looking into the direction of Professor Black again. Whatever the other woman thought she had just witnessed; Hermione would not give her the pleasure of showing weakness in front of her. She would not give her another reason to attack her.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur. Hermione tried to enjoy it as much as possible, but still couldn’t quite shake off the aggravating state the previous incident left her in. At some point, the students started to make their way to their common rooms and most of the teachers got up from the table as well. Hermione joined them on their way out, absentmindedly walking behind a group of Hufflepuff students. She just rounded a corner, already planning on what book to spend her evening with, when she suddenly bumped into someone else. 

“Oh gosh, I am so sorry. I was so lost in thoughts I didn’t watch where I was going!” Hermione apologized hastily.

“Obviously.” Hermione’s head jolted up at the sound of the deep, penetrating voice and met a very familiar pair of black eyes starring right at her - again. “Well, Miss Granger, if you can’t even walk without making a mess, you should probably reconsider your intentions of becoming a teacher for the arts of Transfiguration. It requires precision and efficiency, you know?” Professor Black’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “McGonagall should have listened to me when I told her that someone like you would never make a good teacher,” her eyes wandered appraisingly up and down Hermione, “It’s going to be a complete disaster. You probably expect that by reading a couple of books you will be an expert teacher, don’t you? You know that’s not going to work like that, right Pet?”

Hermione couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of the familiar nickname, but that feeling was quickly washed over by a sudden amount of range overcoming her. “Well, too bad that whenever I mess up, it will directly fall back at you – and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about that.” She snapped back. Professor Black raised an eyebrow at this, already opening her mouth to shoot back a snarky reply, but Hermione simply turned around and stormed in the other direction, leaving a rather stunned Bellatrix Black behind.

When Hermione finally arrived back in her quarters, her rage had almost vanished and she could feel the mental exhaustion of the day washing over her. She dropped down on her couch at let out a loud sigh. She would never admit it out loud but Professor Black’s words from earlier had actually hit a nerve. She had in fact spent most of the last weeks reading every book about teaching that she could get ahold of – and while she knew that she was now perfectly prepared in the theoretical aspects, she still feared that her classes will turn out to be a complete disaster. Sure, she always enjoyed explaining stuff to her friends back at Hogwarts, but passing her knowledge on to a classroom full of students would be a completely different matter.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the inpatient knocking of a small black owl in front of her window. Hermione got up from the couch, opened the window and took a grey envelope from the owl. She opened it and found a small note written in a very elegant and tidy handwriting.

_Miss Granger,_

_I expect you tomorrow morning at my third year Defense Against the Dark Arts class. You will sit in the back, take notes and not disturb my lessons by any means. Your own classes will not begin until next week. Don’t be late or I will make sure they won’t even start in the first place._

_\- B. Black_

Hermione slowly folded the note back together and sank back onto the couch. This was going to be fun….


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,  
> This is the longest chapter so far. The next one is already roughly planned and will be from Hermione's POV again but I am thinking about adding one from Bella's POV after this... Thoughts?  
> As always, thank you for reading and feedback is very much appreciated :)

**Chapter 3**

The next morning came quick and after a surprisingly restful night Hermione found herself on the way to Professor Black’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class. When she arrived at the classroom, she was surprised to see that the older witch wasn’t there yet. Well, at least there wouldn’t be any snarky comments about her being late then.

Hermione entered the classroom, ignored the curious glances of some of the students and decided to take a seat at an empty table in the last row – It was probably best to not unnecessarily antagonize Black by befriending her students and putting herself in the center of attention. The students quickly decided to ignore her presence for now and felt back into their cheerful chatting.

Suddenly, the whole atmosphere changed and Hermione didn’t even need to turn around to figure that Black must have entered the room. The students immediately went quiet and everyone seemed to get a little smaller in their seat, trying to keep a low profile. Hermione noticed a Hufflepuff inconspicuously kicking his neighbor, who was still searching something in his bag, under the table. Things clearly hadn’t changed much in Black’s classes.

Hermione watched the raven-haired witch cross the room with small, confident steps. She was wearing a tighter fitting black dress today, the typical corset shaping her figure even more, emphasizing the woman slightly swaying her hips with every step, her wand was loosely resting in her right hand. It was clear to everyone that she owned this classroom, and nobody would dare to question her authority.

When Professor Black arrived at her table, she turned around and greeted her class with a brief “Good Morning”. She then continued with her rather unemotional welcome speech. “It’s surprising to see that for once everybody made it on here in time. Keep it that way or there will be consequences.” At that, her head turned towards a Gryffindor boy in the second row, who Hermione noticed hushing into the classroom only minutes before Black arrived. He immediately shrunk further into his seat, not daring to even look up from his parchment. “As most of you have probably already noticed, we have a guest today. Just like you, Miss Granger is here to learn. We will see how successful this is going to be, but for now she will just try not bother us too much.” She briefly locked eyes with Hermione, as if to make sure she got her message. Hermione pressed her lips together and gave the other woman a curt nod. She knew what was expected of her. She would sit, listen and take notes, she would not ask questions or even dare to make suggestions, at least not if she was planning to walk out of this classroom in one piece. 

Black continued with giving the students a brief overview of what they would be dealing with this year. Hermione was surprised to see that Black’s schedule was surprisingly similar to the one Lupin had been following during his time teaching at the school. In year three the students would mostly focus on dark, magical creatures, the content more or less evenly balanced between theory and practice.

The professor was now striding through the rows until she reached an old closet placed at one of the walls at the back of the room. Hermione recognized it immediately and could hear a familiar rumbling from inside of it. “Now, ending all of this chit-chat. Who of you can tell me what is waiting for us inside this closet?” She expectantly looked around the room. Hermione was surprised to see that despite the intimidating character of the witch, quite a few students raised their hands. They had obviously already guessed that coming to Black’s classes unprepared was definitely not a smart move.

Professor Black picked the Hufflepuff boy Hermione noticed earlier.

“A boggart, Professor Black.” He replied. “Correct, Mister Collins.” Black gave the boy an approving nod. “Can you also tell me what’s so special about this creature?”

It took the boy a moment to reply but then he confidently said “It’s an amortal shape-shifting non-being that takes the form of it’s observer’s worst fear.”

Black nodded again. “I’m glad to see you did your reading, Mister Collins, 5 points to Hufflepuff. To all of you who did not know the answer to these questions, this is your first and only reminder to do your requested reading for this class, or else you will not be able to keep up. I am expecting a certain knowledge to work with, it is your own responsibility to acquire it.”

With that, she walked back to the front of the class. “Now, would you all please stand up and form a line at the front?” The students quickly followed her order and Hermione got up as well. Once everyone was lined up at the front, Professor Black raised her wand and, with a quick flick of her wrist, made the tables move to the walls; another flick and the closet was positioned in the center of the room, the banging of the creature inside now audible for everyone.

“I want you all to listen very carefully now.” The older woman spoke slowly, emphasizing her words, not that she had to, the students were practically hanging on her lips already. “Each of you will now face this boggart. As Mister Collins rightfully stated earlier, it will turn into your worst fear, if it recognizes you have more than one, it might even circle through all of them. So, before we start, I want you to think about what this boggart might turn into for you. Prepare yourselves, picture it in your head, and then turn this thought into something ridiculous, that will make everyone hear laugh out loud. With that image in mind, you will cast the Riddikulus spell, which will force the Boggart to turn into this comical form, making it less threatening for you.”

While Professor Black took her time to walk her class through the wand movements that were needed to cast Riddikulus, Hermione curiously observed the older witch. She hated to admit it but she genuinely admired Black for her confidence during her classes. It was clear the woman was at complete ease with the situation, in fact this was probably the most relaxed Hermione had ever seen her. She kept her face mostly blank and impassive but whenever a student showed an exceptionally good wand movement, Hermione noticed an almost proud gleam in her dark eyes and sometimes the corners of her mouth would even lift up a little, and for a split second she would almost be smiling. She looked younger like that, almost at peace with herself and Hermione was mesmerized by the way she gracefully navigated her body through the room. She could feel her eyes wander over the other woman’s figure, mustering her round face, dark eyes, plumb dark red lips, following the outline of her tight dress and –

Hermione stopped herself right there. Where did that even come from? She forced herself to focus back on the scene in front of her.

By now the students had lined up again. Professor Black was giving some last advices, then positioned herself next to the closet and opened the door. Out crawled a gigantic scorpion, its nippers clacking horribly loud with every step it took towards the Hufflepuff girl standing right at the front of the line, a look of pure terror on her face.

“Come on, don’t just stand there. Use your imagination, do something!” Black’s hiss seemed to get the girl out of her shock. She hesitated for another second but then raised her wand with shaky hands and said in a surprisingly firm voice “Riddikulus”. The scorpion’s nippers and spike almost immediately turned into bright pink cushions with unicorn print, making the scorpion look absolutely hilarious. While the whole class erupted into giggling, Black merely nodded and asked the next student to step forward. Humor never had been one of her strong suits, Hermione thought to herself, needing to suppress a grin.

Student after student took their turn to face the boggart. It all went pretty smoothly, until a Gryffindor girl with bright red hair and icy blue eyes stepped forward. As expected, the boggart started to change its form but to Hermione it felt as if the whole atmosphere in the room suddenly got much colder. The boggart changed into a man-like figure, its skin white, almost transparent, its face barely resembling the one of a human being, the cheekbones shallow, the nose missing completely. Hermione should’ve expected this fear to turn up at some point, but the image of Lord Voldemort manifesting right inside the classroom still came as a shock to her and sent shivers down her spine. The witch immediately looked over to Professor Black. She caught the other woman staring at the creature, an expression of pure hatred on her face. But it only took her a split second to put her motionless façade back on.

Then, everything happened very quickly. Black rushed forward, pushing the shaking and crying girl out of the way. She hadn’t even tried to curse the creature and had completely zoned out of the situation. Now facing Black, the boggart changed its form yet again, this time to a blonde woman lying dead on the ground. Hermione could barely identify the delicate features of Narcissa Malfoy when its form switched to another person, hair turning from blonde to black, the body changing from a female to a male, broader shoulder, a bit taller and sturdier.

Professor Black was quick to cast the Ridikkulus spell but Hermione had spent enough time with that man to recognize his lifeless body everywhere, after all she had watched Severus Snape die. She froze for a second. To see that Professor Black’s greatest fear was seeing her family members die was a little surprising but not completely unexpected, but seeing the image of Hogwarts former Potions master right after left Hermione with an uneasy feeling in her stomach that she couldn’t quite place. She had no idea the two had been that close.

By now Black had put the boggart back in the closet and locked the doors. She turned to the still crying girl. “You. Out. Now.” She snapped, in a tone that made the girl only cry harder. When the girl fled the room, she addressed the rest of the class. “While I will now have a word with Miss Merryweather, you all will sit down and start with your essays on boggarts, I want five pages until next week.” She passed Hermione on her way out. “You think you’ll manage to keep an eye on my students without setting the room on fire, Granger?” Hermione could barely manage nod when the older witch already rushed past her and out of the room.

Anger was starting to boil inside her. Under different circumstances she would’ve followed the other woman out of the room to make sure she wouldn’t hurt that poor girl even more. It made her incredibly mad that Black was probably right outside that door yelling at her student, probably even giving her detention for being too weak to cast a simple spell. The girl had probably never seen such a realistic image of Lord Voldemort before and was a bit overwhelmed with everything. It was a completely understandable situation. But arguing with Black in front of her student would for sure mean that she would lose her mentor and could say goodbye to her plans to ever become a teacher at Hogwarts. So, confronting the witch would need to wait until after class.

The rest of the class was uneventful. Hermione supervised the students, even answered a couple of questions. Black arrived back right in time to dismiss the class and as soon as the last student had left the room, Hermione was already storming to the front of the class were Professor Black was now sitting behind her desk, going through some papers.

“What were you thinking?” Hermione shouted, not being able to contain the rage inside her any longer. “Did you even see how messed up that poor girl was? What kind of teacher are you to punish her for something like that?” She was now standing right in front of Black’s desk, staring down at the other woman, who did not even bother to look up from her papers.

“Miss Granger, would you please calm down? Your behavior is ridiculous.” This only fueled Hermione’s anger more “You know what? You are a terrible person. Does it give you pleasure to treat your students like they’re completely worthless? What went wrong in your life that made you end up like this?”

Hermione could see something snap inside of Professor Black. She finally raised her head from her papers and spoke in a dangerously calm voice. “Miss Granger, I would strongly suggest you keep your nose out of things that are absolutely none of your business. If you must know, Miss Merryweather is fine, or at least she will be. I didn’t give her detention, I brought her to her common room to calm down. What you just witnessed had nothing to do with the girl being weak. It was an exact flashback to the moment she was almost killed by the Dark Lord during the battle. I could save her in the last second – but sadly couldn’t do the same for her little sister.”

At that hurt flashed over the older woman’s face and for once she didn’t try to hide it. Her gaze had found Hermione’s now, black eyes piercing into greens. “I don’t think I will need to explain the effects the war had on all of us to you. I witnessed myself that you’re pretty accustomed to them.”

Hermione could feel heating rising into her cheeks. A wave of shame washed over her. So, Black had definitely noticed her panic attack during the feast.

“Professor”, Hermione stuttered, “Whatever you think you saw last night has absolutely nothing to do with my abilities to teach –“

But Bellatrix didn’t even let her finish her sentence. “Listen to me very closely now. You are in absolutely no position to judge me for any of my actions Miss Granger. You don’t get to make assumptions about me or any of my students. You know nothing. I don’t care about your breakdowns; in fact, I couldn’t care less about the feelings of a pathetic witch like you.”

Bellatrix’s face was now dangerously close to Hermione’s. She could see the vein on the other woman’s forehead pulsating and was suddenly very glad to have the desk as a barricade between them. Hermione took a careful step back, bringing some distance between Bellatrix and herself. For once, she was at a loss for words, hurt by the words of the older witch and mad at herself for jumping to conclusions way to quickly, for the fact that a simple delusion of Lord Voldemort would stop her brain from working rationally. So, Hermione broke the eye contact with her mentor and stared at her feet instead. She mumbled a quiet “I’m sorry Professor Black. It won’t happen again.” and then quickly made her way out of the classroom without looking back at Bellatrix, halfheartedly expecting the witch to hex her as soon as she turned her back on her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! As always, thank you for all the kudos. I feel a bit like I'm only talking to myself here, so if you have anything to say, any thought or certain tropes you'd love to read about, please leave a comment, reading those always makes my day.  
> Anyway, this chapter is again from Hermione's POV but the next one will be Bella's POV so stay tuned for her thoughts on the whole mess, it will probably explain some of her behavior.

**Chapter 4**

Throughout the next couple of days Hermione got accustomed to her new routine. She got up, had breakfast in the great hall, followed by one of Black’s classes. She would quietly sit in the back and take notes, trying her best not to upset the other witch even more. Afterwards she and Black would have a brief chat about the lesson and while the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher still did not make a secret out of her dislike for the younger witch, Hermione actually found these discussions quite helpful. They went through Black’s teaching methods together, evaluated the difficulties of each topic and talked about the different student personalities, even though Black made sure to keep these brief and as impersonal as possible.

Despite Professor Black’s cold behavior, Hermione found it surprisingly easy to work with the witch. She still made quite the amount of snarky comments in Hermione’s direction and used every opportunity offered to talk down Hermione’s teaching abilities, but she started to develop a thicker skin for the comments of the other witch. She still couldn’t quite get used to some of the views of the older witch regarding teaching though. Hermione was certain she would not use fear and intimidation in order to gain the student’s respect, but was hoping for a more cooperative way. Still, she knew better than to start another discussion with Professor Black. So, she decided to mainly listen, soak in whatever the older witch was willing to offer her, only asking a careful question every now and then.

She would then spend her afternoon structuring her own schedule for this year, mostly cuddled up on her couch, Crookshanks sleeping in her lap. Overall, she found her time back at Hogwarts quite enjoyable.

However, it all started to go downhill on Friday morning. Hermione woke up in the middle of the night, shaking and drenched in sweat. It has been a while since her last nightmare and she had almost forgotten how real they felt. Ron’s screams were still echoing through her head and the sound of Molly’s devastating sobbing would probably accompany her through the day like a throbbing migraine. She couldn’t fall back asleep for the rest of the night and spent her time tossing in her bed. When the sound of her alarm clock finally released her, she took a shower and spent a great amount of time trying to convince herself to eat her breakfast in the Great Hall. In the end she just couldn’t get herself to go down there, the images of her nightmare still too present in her mind. Instead, she made some cereals and quickly brew a cup of tea, that she promptly spilled all over her robes.

Hermione cursed. The problem was easily solved by casting a simple drying spell on her robes, but when she glanced at the clock, she realized her inner argument about going down to the Great Hall had cost her more time than she thought. If she wouldn’t hurry, she’d be late for Black’s year six class.

The young witch sprinted out of her room and through the corridors of the castle. She slipped into the room only seconds before she heard Professor Black’s footsteps echoing through the corridor. Taking this as a little victory, Hermione took her usual seat in the last row.

When Black entered the classroom, Hermione noticed two things immediately. Firstly, she definitely wasn’t the only one of had a rough night, and secondly, the professor was in a very, very bad mood. While she still looked physically flawless, corset sitting tight, not a hair out of place, Hermione noticed that she failed to completely cover the dark circles under her eyes. The older witch was looking tense today, walking a little more upright, fingers clenched around her wand.

Hermione’s suspicions got confirmed, when she immediately started snapping at a Gryffindor boy who was quietly asking his neighbor for some parchment.

“Mister Mason, if you don’t want to pay attention in this class, the door is right behind you. Your eyes to the front please. 10 Points from Gryffindor.”

“But Professor…”

“And that’s another 5 points from you, Mister Mason.”

This finally made poor Mister Mason shut up. Black arrived at her desk and turned around, now facing the class. “Alright everyone, since you all made it into the class of advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts class, it must mean you believe to be at least somewhat capable in this subject.” Her voice sounded even darker and more taunting than usual and for some reason this sent shivers down Hermione’s spine. “You all will soon realize that the rumors about this class being incredibly difficult are wrong. It will be worse. So, if you want to reconsider your choice, now would be the time.”

When nobody of her students moved Black continued. “Very well. As you should already be aware of, the topic of today’s class is Occlumency, the ability of shielding your mind against an intruder, using Legilimency on you. This is a very advanced technique that many wizards will ever be able to cast properly, so for today your task will mainly be to watch and take notes.”

This seemed to visibly relax the class, most of them had already been mentally preparing themselves to share their most embarrassing secrets with Professor Black. Everyone was aware that they wouldn’t stand a chance against the expert Legilimens. However, Hermione was suddenly feeling on edge when she was feeling Black’s dark eyes on her, an almost evil grin on her face. “To show you that no matter how smart you think you are, the art of Occlumency requires self-control and absolute focus that is only gifted to a very selected few, Myself and Miss Granger here will give you a little demonstration.” Hermione unconsciously shook her head. “Professor, I don’t think …-“ “Yes, Miss Granger, not thinking is exactly the point of all of this.” Black mocked her. “Now please, join me here at the front.”

Hermione had no other choice but to get up. She already knew this could only go horribly wrong. There was absolutely know way Black could’ve know this, but Hermione was hopelessly lost when it came to Occlumency. She had been a fairly decent Occlumens before the war broke lose, had truly enjoyed the mental challenge completely shielding her mind gave her. However, ever since the war she found it impossible to fully blank her mind. Her mental barriers had become weak, her determination was lacking. There were just so many thoughts inside Hermione’s head and she found it impossible to not get completely overwhelmed by them.

She walked to the front of the class, trying to keep her steps even and her shoulders straight, not wanting to let her insecurity show. When she positioned herself opposite of Black, she took a deep breath in an attempt to mentally prepare herself for what was to come.

Black got herself in position, wand ready and said “Don’t worry Granger, I’ll go easy on you.” But her voice was dripping with sarcasm. Hermione tried to brace herself, to put up her mental barriers and to get her mind as shielded as possible. But when Black muttered “Legilimens” she could almost immediately feel the older witch’s present inside her mind, gliding past her barriers as if they didn’t exist at all. She did her best to push the other woman out, but Black was gleefully browsing through her childhood memories. Hermione’s first time riding a bike, Hermione climbing a tree, Hermione blowing out the candles of her birthday cake which then would magically light up again because she was enjoying this way too much. Black probably could’ve gone on for hours, but at some point, she got bored and left Hermione’s mind.

Here she was, visibly panting, sweat already beginning to form on her forehead, while Black still looked as if this wouldn’t exhaust her in the slightest. Well, it probably didn’t. The raven-haired witch let out a mocking sound. “So, that’s what they call brightest witch of your age? Pathetic. I hope you all are watching. Let’s go again.” Hermione could already feel a headache arriving, still she got back in position. The results were pretty similar to Black’s previous attempts. The other witch passed her barricades without the slightest struggle and went back to her childhood memories. Hermione getting bullied in school for being a bookworm, Hermione standing up to her bullies, Hermione receiving her Hogwarts letter, feeling happier than she ever did before.

When Black entered Hermione’s mind for the third time, she focused her attention on more recent memories. Ron and her studying for their OWL’s, Ron and her arguing during their search for horcruxes, Ron and her hugging in the Room of Requirement. The image flashed to Hermione standing inside the Great Hall, curses flying around her. This image was too much and something inside Hermione’s mind snapped. Hermione pushed against the older witch’s presence in her head with all the energy she had left. Then, suddenly, she felt Black vanish from her mind and she was no longer looking at her own memories.

Instead, she was staring at a version of Professor Black standing in the Potions classroom. The witch looked completely exhausted, her face shallow, hair even messier than usual. Opposite her stood no other than Severus Snape, looking like his old greedy-haired self. When Black started to speak, Hermione almost didn’t recognize her voice. It sounded shaky, almost as if she had to suppress a sob that was forming in her throat. “Severus, I am not sure if I can do that much longer. He is torturing students…” She sounded broken, her voice barely more than a whisper. Snape looked at her, the same tired look in his eyes. “I know Bella.” Then he stepped forward and hugged Black. The professor, now visibly shaking, collapsed in his arms….

That was when Hermione got pushed out of the memory and found herself back in the classroom. Before she could even start to process what she had just witnessed, Black’s voice was already shrieking through the room. “OUT. NOW.” Her wand was raised again, pointing directly at Hermione, who only defensively raised her hands and then stumbled with shaking legs through the rows of very confused looking students towards the door.

Hermione wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the whole situation. She was mostly mad at Black. Mad at her for making a fool out of Hermione in front of a whole class of students. Mad at her for snooping inside her most personal memories. Mad at her for overreacting and throwing her out of her class. But there also was that tiny part of her that couldn’t help but feel sorry for the witch. The memory had made it clearer than ever before that Black was mostly putting on a façade, that she was hiding how much the war and her time as a spy had actually gotten to her, how much it had asked of her.

Hermione also couldn’t quite place Snape’s role inside all of this. The atmosphere between the two had been more intimate than in a normal friendship. It almost looked as if they were romantically involved, but then again, the image of Black and Snape being lovers was something that Hermione really couldn’t, and honestly absolutely didn’t want to, imagine. She also couldn’t help that tiny spark of jealousy she felt when she thought about the way Black opened up towards Snape, how he got to hug her, see more of her than the tough witch she usually appeared to be. She spent the whole afternoon going through the events in her head over and over again and then finally made a decision.

It was already getting dark outside when Hermione got up from her couch and made her way through the castle to the quarters of Professor Black. She knocked on the door and it only took a couple of seconds until Black opened the door. “What do you want?” Yes, the woman was definitely still pissed. “Can we talk?” To her own surprise the professor actually stepped aside and waved Hermione inside her quarters.

The young witch couldn’t help herself and curiously looked around the living room area. Black’s quarters looked pretty similar to her own, but to nobody’s surprise, the room was mostly held in black, a couple of silver and green touches every here and there. The older witch was starting to get impatient, her fingers tapping on her leg. “I’m listening?”

Hermione took a deep breath. “Black, if you think I’m here to apologize, you are wrong.” Black raised an eyebrow. “What you did today was just completely unnecessary! You can’t tell me there was any pedagogical purpose to do that in front of your whole class. Heck, you had no right to invade my privacy like that.”

Bellatrix barely reacted at all to this. Instead, she took another step towards Hermione, now standing directly in front of her. This time there was absolutely no barrier between them. Hermione could literally feel the older woman’s breath on her face. She smelled delicious, like pine-needles with a hint of vanilla. Hermione had to force herself to not get distracted by this and focused back on the woman in front of her.

When Bella finally spoke, her voice was dangerously low. “Listen up Granger, believe it or not, but I couldn’t care less about your awkward make-out sessions with your little Weasel boyfriend. What I did was proving a point” Hermione was kind of proud at herself for not even flinching at the insult against Ron. “Ron was not my boyfriend. And that’s absolutely not what this is about. Don’t you have anything to say about you humiliating me in front of all your students?” Bellatrix seemed genuinely surprised by that information but only let out a derogatory groan. “If someone was humiliated in that class, it was me, pet.” Hermione couldn’t believe that woman. “Oh my god, you think I care about the fact that you and Snape were lovers? You attacked me, I just defended myself.”

The raven-haired witch actually had the audacity to laugh at this. Hermione looked at her, confusion all over her face. When Black calmed down again, she looked Hermione in the eyes and said in a more serious tone “Not that it’s any of your business, but let me just tell you, while Severus definitely was someone special for me, I will never have these kind of feeling for a man, pet.” Hermione was taken aback by that. Did that mean what she thought it did? Her puzzlement must have showed on her face, cause Black only tauntingly raised an eyebrow at her. “Come on Granger, stop being such a prude.” Hermione was now realizing how close the other witch was actually standing to her. She could even see that eyes of the other woman were in fact not Black but instead in a very dark chocolate brown. She suddenly felt very insecure and took a step back, getting some space between her and Black. “No… I am not,” She stuttered, “I mean I don’t care who you are in love with. And I shouldn’t care about your relationship with anyone. I’m sorry.”

Then, Black surprised her again. “I guess I might have overstepped as well.” For the first time, the look on her face was nothing but sincere, her voice even got a bit softer. “I just had a really hard night. I probably shouldn’t have made you suffer for it.” Was Black actually apologizing? Hermione couldn’t quite believe it. She only muttered a quick “It’s alright.” And then the two were awkwardly standing in silence, until Hermione’s eyes fell on a tiny black cat that slept curled up on the couch.

“Wouldn’t have taken you for a cat person.” She stated.

Black only smirked at that. “Well, turns out there is quite a lot of stuff you don’t know about me.” Hermione nodded. “I guess.” And after another moment of silence added “Well, I shouldn’t keep you any longer. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that she left the quarters of Professor Black, with quite a lot of new information in mind that she would need to process.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,  
> wow the feedback for the last chapter has been so overwhelming! Thank you all!!   
> So, here comes Bella's POV... I am not entirely happy with this chapter because I am not sure if my characterization of Bella actually makes sense haha! So some feedback would again be really amazing. Anyway, enough of the rambling, enjoy :)

**Chapter 5**

It was way too early for a Monday morning. Getting up right after sunrise was one of the things Bellatrix just couldn’t quite get used to, even after all the time she spent teaching at Hogwarts. The witch was sitting on her couch, hands clinging around a cup of tea. Even more than a year after the war, she avoided eating at the Great Hall as much as possible, still expecting the judgmental and sometimes hateful looks both students and fellow teachers would send in her direction.

Fortunately, by now, these had become very rare. She was still not exactly popular with the students, but most have come to respect her. Still, the uneasy feeling whenever some of the students put their heads together in quiet whispers and then ended up staring in her direction, probably not even on purpose, had never quite left her. Instead, she preferred spending the mornings on her own, her cat being the only company she tolerated.

She leaned back into her couch, scratching the black cat behind its ears. Today was going to be an interesting day. After a challenging week of observing her classes, Miss Granger would have to teach the first class on her own today. She didn’t see much potential for conflicts with that particular class. But there still was something about the younger witch that fascinated her. So, she was genuinely curious how she would hold herself during class.

Bellatrix thought back to the day Minerva had asked her to mentor Miss Granger. Bellatrix had looked at the older witch as if she had told her to jump off the astronomy tower. It had only been her indefinite respect for the headmistress that had stopped her from snapping at her and leaving the room immediately.

“Minerva, are you out of your mind? There is absolutely no way I am going to teach that annoying Know-It-All, there must be someone else who is available. I bet Hagrid would be thrilled.”

Minerva had only raised her eyebrows at this and had given her a stern look.

“Believe me, I went over every possibility. It’s either you or she won’t be able to teach here at all. You know the new rules.”

“Why does she even have to come here in the first place? I’m sure there are countless of other facilities that would be happy to take a prestigious war hero like Miss Granger.” Bellatrix voice had been dripping with sarcasm. She was not someone who pitied herself much, but deep down, the missing acknowledgement of the wizarding world for everything she had done was still getting to her.

“She will teach here, because I asked her to,” Minerva’s tone had left no room for discussions, “You will see that Miss Granger is no longer the child she was during her time at Hogwarts. The war has changed her, forced her to grow up. Actually, now that I think about it, you two are a lot more similar than you might think.”

Bellatrix snorted. “Excuse me? Miss Granger is an annoying little brat, that doesn’t know where to stop for her own good. She needs to turn everything into a discussion, can’t lose an argument and won’t take no for an answer.”

That caused Minerva to chuckle quietly. “My point exactly, Bella. Doesn’t this remind you of someone else?”

In the end she had agreed on being Miss Granger’s mentor. Absolutely not because she had been curious about the young witch, or because she had deep down known, that there was a lot of potential in her. No, it had purely been a favor for Minerva. At least that was what she had been telling herself.

It was when she had first seen Miss Granger for the Sorting Hat ceremony in the Great Hall, that she had first realized there definitely had been some truth about Minerva’s words. It had been undeniable that the young witch had changed. She was no longer the annoying and quirky Hogwarts student Bellatrix had gotten to know her as. Her hair was shorter now, only reaching up until her shoulder and even through her robes, Bellatrix had noticed that her body had changed from the one of a teenager to one of a grown woman. She had not been able to stop herself from letting her eyes wander over the young witches’ body once more, appreciating the curves she had developed.

The biggest change, however, had been in the demeanor of Miss Granger. Bellatrix had noticed immediately, that she seemed more serious. While she had been happily engaging in a discussion with Sprout and Flitwick, she had rarely smiled – and even if she had, it had never quite reached her eyes. She had appeared to be lost in her own thoughts for most of the time, had nervously gazed around the hall several times, almost as if she had expected the Great Hall to turn back into the battlefield from the war, right before her eyes.

Right after the Sorting Hat Ceremony, Bellatrix had noticed another, sudden change in the behavior of the young witch. She had curiously been watching the new students when suddenly, only for the briefest moment, her whole body had frozen completely. Miss Granger had done an impressive job with hiding her true emotions at that moment deep inside her, but Bellatrix was way too familiar with the feeling of a panic attack washing over her. She had noticed the signs immediately. The way her knuckles had turned white, from holding on to the table tightly in order to keep herself grounded, how she had scanned the room, an absent look on her face, in an attempt to find something to focus her mind on, how her breath had quickened, barely noticeable for anyone around her, trying to conceal her inner struggle to keep herself from falling apart in front of everyone.

Bellatrix had to stop herself from somehow making the young witch aware of her surroundings, when McGonagall had called out her name during her speech. But much to her own surprise, Granger had stood up, had put a big smile on her face and had happily waved around.

She had not consciously registered that she had been staring at her former student the whole time, but when Granger had sat back their eyes had locked– and while Bellatrix had managed to keep her indifferent façade in place, the mask of the younger witch had slipped for a split second. Her face had shown a vulnerability, that had made something inside Bellatrix snap.

It had been this carefully covered outburst, that had made Bellatrix realize, how much the war had actually hardened Hermione Granger – and how much it had broken her.

During her class on boggarts, her view on the other witch had changed yet again. She usually enjoyed teaching this class because it pushed her students to their limits, but always had a little fun side to it. It gave her the opportunity to get to know her students better and to test their boundaries. However, in retrospect, Bellatrix was still mad at herself for not thinking this entirely through.

She had realized her mistake only seconds too late, when Miss Merryweather had already stepped forward to face to boggart. The images of the young girl sitting on the ground, desperately shaking the dead body of her sister had burnt itself deep into Bellatrix’s mind. The girl had only just turned twelve, when Voldemort’s killing curse had hit her right in the chest. He had had absolutely no business with her, she had just gotten caught in the crossfire.

The illusion of Voldemort inside her classroom had immediately caused an enormous wave of range to wash over her. Even after all this time, she had still not gotten used to the image of the cruel man she had been forced to serve so many years.

She had then managed to snap out of her state of shock. Her anger at the illusion quickly turning into anger at herself and her own recklessness.

Even though she would never admit it out loud, Bellatrix knew that one of her biggest flaws was the fact that she tended to get completely lost in her self-hatred. As a defense mechanism, she would usually project her hate on someone else. In this case, someone else had been Miss Granger.

By now, she knew that the young witch had probably only wanted to help, but at that time Bellatrix had only heard the judgment and accusations in her voice. She had already given herself enough of this and while it was one thing for Bellatrix to be hard and critical on herself, she was still too proud to take criticism from others well. This in connection with her strong need to push Granger away from Hogwarts, away from her, had turned her into the perfect target for her outburst.

Deep down she had hoped that her rejection would result in the witch giving up on her teaching plans. That she would leave Hogwarts and all the bad memories this place still held for her. Bella had thought it might prevent her from going down the same dark path that she had once followed. That it might prevent her from turning into the old, lonely and broken mess that she already was. 

However, Miss Granger’s behavior surprised her yet again. She had come nowhere close to giving up and instead in a way had even managed to adapt to Bellatrix and her mood swings. Morning after morning, she had showed up in time to her classes, had eagerly taken notes and had participated in some genuinely interesting discussions with her – and while Bellatrix was kind of impressed with the younger witch, it had also shown her yet again how similar the two of them actually were. And with that knowledge, Bellatrix knew that there was no way she would manage to scare her away. 

Instead, she had decided to try the complete opposite direction. To try to push Granger to her limits, to put her up to some challenges, that would hopefully help her to realize what she was truly capable off and that she was more than what the war had made out of her.

In the end, everything had yet again not quite worked out the way it was supposed to. She had planned on challenging the brunette witch in her Legillimency class. She had not expected her own mental barriers to be shaken up as the result of a terrible, all too familiar, nightmare, involving Severus being forced to torture students under the Imperius Curse and her being unable to do anything about it because it would blow her cover. She had also not expected her own strong reaction towards the possibility of the Weasley Boy being romantically involved with Granger, or else she would have stopped herself from digging deeper into their relationship, which had ultimately resulted in her triggering some memories she had genuinely not intended to see.

When she had sensed the presence of Miss Granger in her own mind, she had been so surprised that it had taken her way too long to react. Afterwards, she had only seen red.

Her pride had prevented her from searching the young witch herself that evening. So, she had been very glad to find her in front of her door that evening. She still wasn’t sure what had caused her to let down her guard back then, even if it had just been for the briefest of moments. There was just something about Miss Granger that made Bellatrix weak, that threatened part of the walls she had spent year building up, to slowly crumble down – and it terrified Bellatrix more than she was willing to admit.

The most interesting part about their conversation had, however, been Granger’s reaction to Bellatrix’s declaration, that she would in fact never develop any sorts of romantic feelings for Severus, or any man in that matter. The way the other witches’ brows had furrowed, while she had slowly been processing what she had said and how her cheeks slightly reddened when she had come to understand the meaning of what Bellatrix had said, still kept Bellatrix’s thought occupied. The young ones were always so easy to fluster. She had, however, already made a mental not to herself to get a bit more into this particular reaction of the witch.

Bellatrix was now on her way to Miss Granger’s first class. She would introduce the Reparo spell to the second year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. It was not a particularly hard subject to teach and even though she did her best to hide it from the younger witch, she was sure she would do very well.

When she arrived at the classroom, it was completely empty except for the young witch, who was furiously scribbling down some last-minute notes. She looked up when Bellatrix walked through the door and sent a careful smile her way – which Bellatrix obviously didn’t return. She only gave Granger a short not. “Don’t mess this up, Granger.” But then couldn’t help to at in a low, teasing voice “We don’t want you all flustered up in front of the whole class.” She enjoyed watching the other woman’s head turn into a slight crimson, as she added a wink and then took her place in the last row of the classroom without another word.

When the students started to arrive, Miss Granger became visibly more nervous. She started to fidget with her hands and kept biting her lip, in a way that Bellatrix found quite distracting. When she welcomed her students, her voice was a bit shaky. It seemed as if the mass of students sitting in front of her, intimidated the young witch. She also moved into a slightly defensive position, arms crossed in front of her body, the shoulders slightly dropping. While she got more confident and relaxed over the course of the class, this was definitely something Bellatrix would need to work on with her.

Still, in the end the lesson went quite alright. Bellatrix was positively surprised to see Miss Granger actually using some of the methods and propositions she had made. The students were eagerly listening to her explaining the theoretical content and followed her practical demonstrations. They asked questions, that Miss Granger had to nobody’s surprise absolutely no problem answering, and seemed to enjoy the lesson immensely. When the young witch finally dismissed her students, a relived smile was forming on her lips – and Bellatrix couldn’t help but feel a bit proud herself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Hey,  
> Here's the next chapter, it's a bit longer than the rest but it felt weird cutting it. I hope you're all staying safe and healthy and will have a great christmas, if you celebrate it. If you wanna make me an early christmas present, feel free to share your thoughts on this chapter with me :p

**Chapter 6**

_Hermione's POV_

Hermione was still in the process of settling into her new routine. She was slowly but surely getting used to her busy days. As part of her training program, she still visited Professor Black’s classes from time to time, but most of her time was now spent with preparing and teaching her own classes. Much to her own surprise, the planning was way more time consuming than she had imagined – and she had to admit she enjoyed the mental challenge it gave her immensely.

She definitely was enjoying the actual teaching as well. She loved to see her students hanging on her lips when she was explaining something new, the way her younger students always gasped when she showed them the effects of an especially impressive, new spell and how she was already beginning to see the progress almost all of them started to make. Still, she couldn’t quite shake off the feeling of insecurity that came over her, as soon as she stood in front of the class.

At first, she had thought it was only because of Professor Black’s presence in her class. That she had just been intimidated, because she knew that Black was watching every move she made. But then, she noticed the feeling growing even stronger during the classes, she was teaching all on her own, without the other witch keeping an eye on her from the last row.

It was especially during her classes with the 6th and 7th year students, that she sometimes felt like the students hardly accepted her authority. She was barely older than some of them and even though she had quite the reputation in the wizarding world, she found it hard to actually make use of that. The classes were often agitated and easily distracted and Hermione wasn’t really sure how to act on that.

The perfectionist in her was losing its mind over this. She wanted nothing more than to have some of Professor Black’s confidence during class. She had found herself staring at the older witch quite a lot lately when she was sitting in her classes. Observing the way, she gracefully moved in class, never even allowing turmoil to develop. Of course, it was purely because she was trying to find out how to use some of Black’s manners for her own teaching. At least that was what she kept telling herself.

A tiny part of her wanted to tell Professor Black about her struggle. As her mentor she was supposed to help her with that, wasn’t she? But then again, did she really want to show weakness again? By now, she and Black had reached a point in their relationship, that could almost be considered friendly. The older witch had noticeably backed down with her demeaning comments against Hermione. She still made sure, Hermione knew exactly how much she considered watching her classes a complete waste of time, but then again, when Hermione’s eyes fell on her during her classes, she always seemed genuinely interested.

Hermione definitely wasn’t going to jeopardize that by making it sound as if she wasn’t sure if she could actually do this. So, telling Black wasn’t really an option.

That was one of the reasons why she found herself looking forward to this weekend so much. It was one of the few weekends that Ginny wasn’t occupied with her work at the Holyhead Harpies. They had agreed to meet up at The Three Broomsticks and Hermione was more than ready to discuss everything that had happened with her best friend.

When Hermione entered the pub, she spotted Ginny’s red hair immediately. She walked over to her table and Ginny got up to give her a big hug.

“Mione! You look great! How are things at Hogwarts?”

Hermione smiled. One of the things she loved most about Ginny was that no matter how long they haven’t seen each other, the redhead would always make it seem as if no time had passed at all. They sat down and Hermione gave Ginny a quick overview on how things at Hogwarts had changed.

She wasn’t surprised to find Ginny especially interested in all the teacher gossip going on behind closed doors, far from the student’s curious eyes. She had always been quite nosy.

“So, you’re telling me nobody is secretly hooking up with anyone? How about Sprout and Hooch? Come on, Mione, there was definitely a certain vibe between the two of them…”

Hermione only shook her head and then burst into laughter when she saw the look of utter disappointment on Ginny’s face.

“Gin, you’re such a drama queen, seriously!”

Ginny almost looked offended at this.

“Rubbish. You really need to up your game, Mione.” She dramatically rolled her eyes at that. “If you cannot give me any of the juicy stuff, can you at least get us another round of butterbeer?”

Hermione playfully slapped her shoulder, but then got up and walked towards the bar. When she arrived, she spotted a familiar set of wild, black curls. No other than Professor Black was sitting at the bar, all on her own, nipping at something that looked a suspicious lot like fire whiskey.

She wasn’t really sure whether or not to approach the older witch, but when Black turned around in just that second, she didn’t really have a choice and gave her a quick not.

“Black.”

“Granger. Do you really have nothing better to do on your weekend than to stalk me?”

Hermione was about to snap back at her, when she realized the teasing smile playing around Black’s lips. So, instead she just shrugged her shoulder. “You got me there, I’ve spent the last hour sitting back there in the corner, gathering up the courage to talk to you.”

Black had some serious trouble biting back a laugh at this. She then noticed the two empty glasses in Hermione’s hands.

“I hope teaching hasn’t already overwhelmed you so much, that you need to drown your sorrow in alcohol?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at the glass of fire whiskey in front of the older witch. She decided against making a comment about it and instead only replied very briefly. “No, it’s all going alright.”

Now, Black’s eyebrows almost vanished under her hairline.

“Is it really?”

Hermione could’ve sworn she heard actual concern in the woman’s voice and the tiny part of her that was burning to tell Black about her struggles was springing into action. Hermione shut it down instantly and looked away from the older witch.

“Yeah, perfectly fine.”

Black only shrugged at this, clearly noticing something was going on but to Hermione’s relief not pressing the matter any further.

“Well, then there’s no need for you to bother me any longer.” She then spotted Ginny at their table, who was doing a very poor job at trying to unsuspiciously observe the interaction. “I think the Weasley girl is waiting.”

Hermione took Black’s hint and quickly ordered two more butterbeer. She grabbed them, then turned around and started to walk back to Ginny, when Professor Black started spoke once more.

“You know Granger,” she said, her voice quieter and more serious than before, “sometimes, when you’re struggling with something, all you gotta do is ask for help.”

Hermione didn’t react to this, but her inner voice started to scream louder and louder. Maybe asking Black for advice wouldn’t actually be such a bad idea?

When she arrived back at her table Ginny was already waiting for her with a curious look on her face.

“Soooo…”, Hermione really didn’t like the teasing tone of Ginny’s voice, “Wanna tell me what that was all about? You two almost seemed… friendly?”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

“Honestly Gin, there’s not much to tell. Our relationship is a bit complicated. She’s my mentor, so I kind of depend on her and can’t snap at her all the time. Besides, she isn’t completely terrible.”

Ginny dramatically gasped for air.

“Okay, who are you and what did you do to Hermione?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. She wasn’t exactly sure how to explain her relationship with Professor Black.

“I’m serious Gin. She’s actually a great teacher. Sure, she can be a complete bitch and there have been quite a few moments where I would’ve loved nothing more than to hex her, but in the end, I feel like I’m learning quite a lot from her. She really knows what she’s doing. Like, you can’t imagine how hard it is to confidentially stand in front of a class, and she just does it as if it’s nothing. Nobody would dare to disrespect her.”

Ginny looked at her with big eyes and then started to chuckle.

“Careful Mione, you almost make it sound as if you’re crushing on her. OW”

Hermione had kicked her under the table.

“Shut it, Ginny.”, she hissed, but couldn’t stop herself from blushing slightly.

For her own good, Ginny left it at that and raised her hands in defense. Hermione took this at her cue to change the topic and quickly asked Ginny how Harry was doing. She felt a wave of relief wash over her, when the topic of Professor Black didn’t come up again during their conversation.

It was already quite late when Hermione arrived back at her quarters. She had used the way back to the castle to structure her thoughts and had come to a decision. So, before she could overthink it again, she immediately grabbed her quill and a piece of parchment and started to scribble down a quick note to Professor Black. She had decided she would just ask the other witch for some general feedback on her lessons, without getting into too much detail about what she was actually struggling with. Maybe this would already help her.

After she sent her owl to Professor Black, she quickly changed into her pajamas and lay down in her bed. She was about to fall asleep when an insistent knock on her window startled her and was surprised to find her owl sitting in front of it. She hadn’t expected a reply from Black before the next morning.

Hermione got up, opened the window and took the parchment from the owl. After she rewarded it with a cookie and sent it back to the Owlery, Hermione opened the letter and was greeted by Black’s already familiar handwriting.

_Meet me in the Transfiguration classroom tomorrow at 4._

_Don’t be late._

  * _B. Black_



_PS: If your owl wakes me again, you might need a new one._

Hermione chuckled at the last comment, but then, for some reason images started to pop up in her head. Images of Black lying in bed. Hermione guessed she was probably wearing some expensive silk negligée that was showing way more skin than appropriate. Her black curls would be spread all over her pillow, her face looking calm and peaceful for once. She would probably talk in her sleep and make –

Oh boy, Hermione really had to get a grip or else would need to find a way to make sure Black would never be able to enter her mind ever again. This was getting embarrassing. In an attempt to distract herself from her thoughts, Hermione grabbed the book from her nightstand and started to read. It didn’t take her long to feel her eyelids getting heavier and soon she fell into a dreamless sleep.

She spent the next morning with mentally preparing herself for her meeting with Professor Black and the afternoon came way too soon. At five to four, she knocked at the door to the Transfiguration classroom, an uneasy feeling in her stomach. 

“Come in.”

Professor Black’s deep voice made Hermione involuntarily shiver. She entered the room and look at the older witch who was already waiting for her at the front. Hermione should have expected it but she was still impressed that Black managed to look absolutely flawless even on her day off and with no intention to leave the castle.

Today the raven-haired witch had decided for a rather loosely fitted skirt and the typical black corset with broad straps. She had already doffed her cloak on one of the chairs and Hermione’s eyes lingered a moment too long on the bare and surprisingly well toned arms of the older woman. She figured that was Black’s definition of a casual weekend outfit. To her it was merely a distraction and she tried to focus back on the task ahead.

“Well, don’t just stand there. We can hardly work on anything when you’re frozen at the other side of the room.”

Black’s piercing voice got Hermione out of her transfixed state. She joined the other woman at the front and gave her a curt nod.

“Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.” Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest, immediately feeling more insecure about the whole plan. “I’m not quite sure where to start…”

Black chuckled and took a step closer towards Hermione, her eyes fixated on the younger witch. When she replied, her voice was firm, her gaze not leaving Hermione’s for even a second.

“Well, Miss Granger, before you come up with some lame excuse of yours, let’s just get down to the real reason you’re here.” Hermione felt exposed. She looked down on the ground and shivered uncomfortably. “Let me guess. We are here because you’re feeling insecure about how you’re holding yourself in front of the class. You don’t really feel like an authority figure, but then again, you don’t want to admit weakness, not to me, not to anyone, because you feel like it would only undermine your position even further.”

This left Hermione speechless for once. Had she missed Black snooping in her head again? But, Black only let out a snort at her puzzled face.

“Why do you seem so surprised? You didn’t really think I show up to your classes every week only to enjoy the view, right? I actually do my observing and take my notes. Your behavior has been pretty obvious.”

Hermione was still too stunt to send back a snarky reply. So, instead she only nodded, barely registering the older witch had just admitted that she found her attractive. There would be time to panic over that later on. When Black spoke again, she was hanging on her every word.

“Your problem is quite a simple one. Body language is the key to everything. Now, Miss Granger, the way you’re holding yourself right now, is pretty similar to what I have observed during your classes.” She let her gaze wander over Hermione’s body, what only resulted in her sinking together even more. Her cheeks were burning already and she couldn’t get herself to return the other woman’s obvious staring.

Professor Black now stepped even closer, purposely invading her personal space. Hermione could feel her curls tickling her arms, as she slowly walked around her. Then she felt a warm hand right between her shoulder blades. She couldn’t stop a shiver running down her spine from the sudden touch. The hand was gently pressing against a point between shoulder blades and Hermione automatically straightened herself.

Black’s lips were now very close to her ear, her voice not more than a husky whisper. “You’re too tense, Granger.” Hermione was way too aware of the older witch’s closeness, of the way their bare arms touched, whenever either of them moved.

She gulped, not quite trusting her voice.

“And… what do you suggest I’d do about that?”

She hated herself for the clearly audible shaking of her voice. But Black only chuckled.

“You need to loosen up a little.”

Her fingers were now slowly running along her arms, that were still crossed in front of her chest, slowly undoing them from their tense position. Hermione felt like her whole body was on fire, but after a while slowly started to relax under the touch of Professor Black.

“You don’t have to actually feel like you own this classroom. You only have to convince everyone that you do. After all, everything is just an act. Remind yourself to stand straight, shoulders back, chest out. Let your arms hang freely, that will also stop you from fidgeting with your hands the whole time. Give short responses and focus on your voice, keep it steady, remember to breathe. Speak loud and clear. Do you understand?”

Hermione nodded.

“I can’t hear you.”

She took a deep breathe, calming herself and focused on her stance once more. She was genuinely surprised at how firm her words sounded.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good Girl.”

She then moved a very close again, leaning forward so that Hermione could feel her breasts pressing into her sides. Her hot breath was tickling her neck, when she started to whisper again.

“And one last thing, Granger. Don’t bite your lip. It’s very distracting.”

Then she stepped back and Hermione was immediately missing her closeness. Black gave her another once-over and nodded, obviously pleased with her work.

“Now, that’s much better. You barely even flinched and your posture is still looking flawless.”

She actually had the audacity to wink at the still shell-shocked Hermione. Then, grabbed her cloak from the chair and walked towards the door.

“Try to remember what I told you. I see you tomorrow.”

Hermione barely managed to press out a quiet “Thank You.”. Then she was alone. She needed another moment to compose herself.

When she arrived back at her quarters, her thoughts were still spiraling. Part of her was very glad that Professor Black had actually given her some solid advice to work with. The other part of her mind was starting to process that she was in deep, deep trouble. She could still feel the feather-light touches of Black’s fingers on her skin. How it had left her burning, craving for more.

It was right at that moment when she admitted to herself that maybe, just maybe, Ginny wasn’t completely wrong and that she was in fact about to develop a teeny-tiny crush on her former professor. Damn it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,  
> I hope you all enjoyed the holidays as much as possible. Thank you so much for everyone who took the time to leave a comment or kudos so far. You're really giving me so much motivation to keep going! There are some slightly naughty times ahead of you - in case you planned on reading that at work or just don't like to read it (fair warning, it might be crappy) just skip the cursive part. Enjoy!

**Chapter 7**

_Hermione was back in the Transfiguration classroom. Black was circling her, eyeing her, like she was some sort of prey. Her hands were almost gently caressing her arms when she leaned forward and seductively breathed into her ear._

_“You’re too tense Granger.”_

_Hermione slowly backed down until she felt the cold wood of the desk pressing into her back, her eyes never quite leaving Black’s._

_“And what do you suggest I’d do about that?”_

_Black closed the distance between them, so that Hermione now found herself trapped between the desk and the body of the older woman. When she started to speak again, her voice was barely audible, nothing more than a teasing whisper._

_“You need to loosen up a little.”_

_Hermione raised an eyebrow in a clear challenge, purposely biting her lip._

_“Teach me how. I’m all yours.”_

_She barely managed to finish her sentence, when Black closed the tiny gap between them and captured her lips in a rough kiss. Hermione kissed her back immediately. She buried her hands in Black’s wild, black curls and curiously started to discover the mouth of the other woman with her tongue. When Black lifted her up on the table in a swift movement, Hermione couldn’t restrain herself any longer and let out a loud moan. She let her hands wander over the body of the older woman, desperately trying to untie the laces of her corset to somehow get access to some more skin._

_The other witch only chuckled._

_“My, my… so eager.”_

_Hermione let out a frustrated groan, when Black gently pressed her back on the table. Her groan then quickly turned into another throaty moan, as Black’s lips started to wander from her mouth down her throat and along her neck, gently sucking on her pulse point. Hermione gasped for air, desperate for more. As if she read her thoughts, the older woman then started to caress her breasts through her shirt. When she gently pinched one of Hermione’s nipples through the fabric, she was struggling to keep herself together. She felt as if her whole body was on fire, the heat between her legs made it impossible for her to focus on anything else than her desperation for release._

_She lifted her head, a distressed plea on her face. Black let out another dark chuckle and continued to tease Hermione’s nipples with her hands._

_“What is it, Pet?”_

_“Bella, please… I need you.”_

_Black seemed to enjoy this way too much. She looked up from under dark lashes, shamelessly eyeing Hermione up and down. She seemed to like what she saw. Hermione helplessly spread on the table in front of her, panting, eyes filled with need and lust. When she spoke again, her own eyes had gotten a bit darker, her voice even huskier._

_“Need me for what? Remember, a clear choice of words is important.”_

_Hermione almost lost it and couldn’t stop herself from letting out a frustrated groan, when Bellatrix started to slow down her movements and looked at her expectantly, a wicked grin on her face._

_“I can’t hear you?”_

_“Shit, Bella, please, I need you to fuck me.”_

_That was all the other woman wanted to hear. Hermione almost cried of relief when she felt the hands of Black finally starting to move down her body. Her hands reached the waistband of Hermione’s pants and her hips involuntarily jerked forward. Slowly, Black let her finger glide inside her pant and –_

Hermione woke up with a loud gasp. The first thing she noticed was Crookshanks sitting on the floor, innocently looking away from the broken vase beside him, that had probably interrupted her sleep so rudely. The second thing she noticed was the pulsating heat between her legs. That was when her mind started to catch up with what had just happened in her dream.

The young witch stared at the ceiling in confusion. She was used to wake up aroused screaming and panting from her nightmares, but her arousal was now caused by entirely different reasons. Well, one reason in particular. God damn it, what was Professor Black doing to her? Oh god, she had even called her Bella in her dream… had literally asked her to fuck her?

Hermione felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. Sure, Black was a very attractive woman and Hermione had caught herself more than once appreciating how the tight corsets hugged every curve of her, but she wasn’t even interested in women in that way, wasn’t she? Maybe it was just curiosity.

Yes, that must be it. Curiosity in combination with Black’s teasing from this afternoon and the fact that Hermione knew Black was definitely into women. It was just another outlet for her weird crush on her former professor. Plus, it has been a while since Hermione had last been intimate with anyone. And even then, it had only been some casual flings with random guys she met during her travels and that she hadn’t spoken to ever since. They had been a mere distraction from her overwhelming thoughts and none of them had managed to satisfy her needs in the slightest. Not like Professor Black was just about to in her dream.

“God damn it, Hermione Granger, you need to get a grip.”, she loudly cursed. Then she fell back into her pillow and desperately tried to drop off again. However, as soon as she closed her eyes, images started to flood her mind. Images of Black pressing her against the table, of her teasing hands sending sparks of electricity right between her legs, of the dark moan Black had let out after Hermione had sucked on that particular spot on her neck.

The tugging between her legs became stronger and stronger. Hermione groaned in frustration. There was no way she would be able to fall back asleep like that. Maybe it would help if she’d give into her thoughts just once. Just to get it out of her system.

She closed her eyes again and let her thoughts wander. Back to her dream. Back to Bellatrix. She started to imagine what exactly the other witch would have done to her, if Crookshanks wouldn’t have awakened her so suddenly. How good Black’s naked body would feel against hers. What kind of sounds she could draw from the other witch if she touched her in just the right places. How she would slowly come undone, under her touch. Her hands started to wander down her own body and below the waistband of her pajama pants. Her breathing quickened and it didn’t take her long to reach her peak.

When Hermione woke up again a couple of hours later, she did her best to push the memories of last night out of her mind. She couldn’t say she was very successful, but after a long, cold shower, she at least felt like she could make it through the day without any further incidents.

In hope for some more distraction, Hermione decided to actually eat breakfast in the Great Hall for once. When she arrived, she couldn’t help but feel a bit relived to see Black’s seat empty. This gave her some more time to mentally prepare herself to look the other witch in the eyes later, without the images from last night overwhelming her again and making her look like some love-sick teenager. She realized McGonagall waving at her from the table and happily joined her for breakfast.

The headmistress greeted her with a genuine smile.

“Hermione, it’s good to see you join us down here. Please, have a seat. I wanted to speak to you anyway,” She coughed and looked at Hermione apologetically, “I apologize for being so busy. We barely had time to catch up. How are you doing?”

Hermione smiled back warmly and sat down.

“Good Morning, Professor, don’t worry about being too busy, my days are crazily packed as well,” She took a sip from her tea and then continued, “But I’d say everything is going great. I really enjoy teaching; I mean the kids are great and the subject of Transfiguration is even more fascinated than I would have thought.”

“Well, I believe you’d say that about any subject in existence,” she joked, “No, honestly, I am very glad to hear that. May I ask how things are going with Bellatrix? Considering the fact that until now neither of you had tried to murder the other in cold blood, I guess she’s behaving herself?”

At the mention of her mentor’s name, Hermione almost choked on her tea. Well, so much about keeping a straight face. McGonagall raised an eyebrow in question, but Hermione only shrugged.

“We have our ups and downs, but I think I’m slowly getting used to work with her.”

Images from her dream immediately started to rush back into her mind and Hermione forcefully tried to push them back down. Fortunately, her struggle seemed to go unnoticed by McGonagall.

“That’s a relief. I know she can be difficult, but I am still convinced that you will learn a lot from her,” McGonagall gave her an approving nod, “Now, what I actually wanted to talk to you about, I received an owl from the Ministry this morning. They informed me that it is time for your first official class observation and want to send two of their employees in two weeks. Is that alright with you?”

“Sure,” Hermione said far more confidently than she actually felt. She was just hoping that two weeks would be enough for her to actually become more composed in front of the class, “Is there any specific class they want to see, or is it all up to me?”

“I actually can’t answer that right now, but I’ll send you an owl as soon as they have sent over the details.”

Hermione nodded. Hopefully that meant, she still had enough time to come up with an interesting class, that would satisfy Black.

It didn’t even occur to her, that she should probably be more worried about the ministry officials, rather than her mentor. Sorting her priorities had never been one of her strong suits.

After finishing her breakfast, it was time for her year 6 class. Today they would continue working on the Avis spell. Last week only a couple of students had managed to conjure some single birds and Hermione wasn’t satisfied with that at all.

When she arrived in the classroom, Black had already taken her usual seat in the last row. Hermione only glanced at her briefly, too afraid to say or do something that would magically reveal to the older woman that she had been the picture of Hermione’s wet dream last night. Instead, she immediately made her way to the front of the class and was suddenly very invested in going through her notes again. Fortunately, her students started to arrive quite early, before Black had any chance to question her behavior.

Right before the class started, Hermione recalled what Black had told her last afternoon. She focused on her breathing and the way she was holding herself. She uncrossed her arms and straightened her back. When she started to speak, she was impressed at how much louder and steadier her voice sounded.

“Good Morning everyone. Today we will continue to work on your Avis spells,” Hermione made sure her instructions were clear and precise, “You need to put more effort into your focus. Form a clear picture in your mind. One or two birds aren’t enough – I want a whole flock of them before you will be able to move on.”

Much to her own surprise, putting on the act of confidence actually seemed to work. Her students were much more focused on the task and Hermione slowly felt herself relaxing. There were still some incidents in which she was struggling to keep the upper hand and had to stop herself from falling back into old patterns, but, generally, all of Black’s advices had turned out to be incredibly useful.

By the end of the class, every single one of her students had managed to conjure a full flock of birds and the room was filled with loud chirping and cheering. After Hermione congratulated them on their success, all students left in pretty high spirits and only Hermione and Professor Black remained in the room.

Hermione was so relieved that the lesson went well, that she completely forgot her restraint towards Black and sent a big, proud smile her way. The other woman obviously didn’t return it, but Hermione was sure that she spotted an amused sparkling in her eyes.

“Well, well, Miss Granger. How did you feel today?”

“I felt so much better, honestly! I don’t know what exactly happened but I was so much calmer,” Hermione started to ramble, still completely over the moon. Her voice almost cracked because she was talking so fast. She was now very confident that the ministry observation would be absolutely no problem, “I should’ve asked you for advice so much sooner. I was stressing so much and that would’ve given me a much earlier release.”

Hermione was glad the raven-haired witch stood at the other end of the room or else she might’ve probably flung her arms around the other woman. She hadn’t actually noticed how much her lack of confidence had been bothering her, but now it felt like a huge weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. She didn’t even care that she had just admitted weakness in front of Professor Black. The witch only chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“An early release is not necessarily the goal here,” Black teased, her voice maybe a bit darker than usual, “But I am glad I could be of assistance.”

It took Hermione a second to catch up with the double meaning of her words and she could immediately feel a wave of heat washing over her.

“Yeah, uhm,” she stuttered, suddenly again not able to look at Black and instead taking an interest in the color of her shoes, “Anyways, thank you for your help. I probably wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

When she finally gathered enough courage to look up again, she found Black mustering her with a curious look on her face. She expected the other witch to only reply with her usual shrug, but instead her features softened slightly.

“You’re welcome.”

And there it was again, the genuine smile on her face that was weakening Hermione’s knees.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,  
> Happy New Year to all of you, let's hope it will turn out better than the last. There probably won't be another update next week as I will be moving and won't have any time to write. But I really hope you'll enjoy this one.

**Chapter 8**

The next few days passed in a blur. Hermione kept working on her teaching attitude and posture and slowly but steady gained more and more confidence in front of the class. With each passing day she got more used to having the gaze of a room full of students rest on her. She had far less problems to keep the overview over her classes and to spontaneously react to unusual situations.

At one point she intervened when a Gryffindor and a Slytherin were about start a huge argument, because they were supposed to work together to improve their Vera Verto spells. In the end these two students actually ended up transforming their rats quicker and more precise than everyone else in the class and even left the classroom together and in deep, friendly conversation. Professor Black had been watching the whole exchange and when she gave Hermione an approved not at the end of the class, she was immediately filled with pride.

Apart from that, her relationship with her mentor had actually started to change into something, that might not be called friendship just yet, but was definitely built on mutual respect. To her own surprise, Hermione found the company of the older witch quite enjoyable. When discussing Hermione’s lessons, they now always sat together for a little while longer and ended up in deep conversation about advanced Transfiguration research. Usually, those conversations would end up in rather heated discussions, since Black came from a completely different background and thus her views often drastically differed from Hermione.

Still, Hermione found the insides she got into the other witches’ mind quite fascinating. She was incredibly smart and wasn’t afraid to stand up for her opinions, no matter how controversial they were. Despite all, Hermione could feel that Black always made sure a certain barrier between them remained. She was happy to discuss her professional believes, but as soon as their talks shifted into a more personal direction, her guard was up within seconds. Her replies were getting shorter and snappier then and Hermione knew better than to test her boundaries.

In return, Black didn’t push hers. Whenever they reached a topic, that triggered something inside Hermione’s mind, she just let it pass. She always seemed to notice when Hermione’s body language changed in the slightest, never missed when she flinched or clenched her fists, but there were never any snarky comments from her side, no remarks about her needing to get her shit together. She didn’t pity her either, which was something Hermione was incredibly grateful for. Instead, she always went along with Hermione’s swift topic changes and sometimes Hermione even thought to see something like understanding flash over her face.

Hermione was also glad that her dreams about Professor Black did not return. By now, she had convinced herself, that it was definitely just a one-time thing triggered by Black’s behavior and her own need for release. While this thought made it much easier for her to be around the older witch, she still did her best to work on her mental barriers. She always made sure they were up as strong as she could manage, whenever the older witch was around. Fortunately, Black seemed to have learnt from her previous mistake and didn’t try to invade her mind again.

Despite her attempts to behave normally around Black, Hermione caught herself staring at her former professor quite a lot. Taking in her outfit, admiring how it hugged her curves in exactly the right places and maybe lingering for a moment too long on the swell of her breasts. But that was normal, right? It was undeniable that Black was a very attractive witch. So, appreciating the way she looks was basic human nature. Everyone did this.

Hermione should’ve known that it all went a bit too smooth to last forever. Everything started to go downhill, when it was time for her last class before the ministry observation would take place. She was teaching her year 7 students and they were working on Human Transfigurations. Most of her students already mastered simple color changing spells for hair and eyebrows petty well, so the focus of today’s lesson was on shrinking and enlarging facial body parts. Hermione had just explained their students, that it might be the easiest to start with eyes and ears, as side effects are not as common here, when she noticed a group of Slytherin students in the back snickering.

One boy had already managed to give himself large jug ears and an enormous crooked nose. He was now smirking at his friends, obviously mimicking something, Hermione couldn’t quite recognize yet. When she stepped closer, she was slowly starting to understand the words that were exchanged between the group.

“I’m Binky, Binky loves being a filthy little house-elf. Binky is not worthy. Binky only lives to serve Binky’s master.”

The group erupted into laughter and cheered at the boy, encouraging him to go on. Hermione’s blood started to boil.

“Master wants Binky to lick his boots? Binky would love nothing more.”

That was it for Hermione. If there was one thing that would always set her off and that she would never understand about the wizarding community, it was their injustice and cruelty towards house-elves. She would never forget how Dobby had given his life to safe her, Harry and Ron from the snatchers in the forest of dean. He had been one of the most reliable and kindest creatures she had ever met. This was going too far. This was not right.

Without thinking twice, Hermione raised her voice.

“Mister Meddow, your behavior is disgusting. 50 points from Slytherin. You can leave now”, Hermione pointed at the door, her voice hard as steel, “I really hope you know how to shrink your ears and nose back to its normal size. If not, you now have three weeks to find out in detention.”

The Slytherin boy flinched, his head turning into the color of a tomato. He had not noticed Hermione until she stood directly behind him. He opened his mouth as if to object her decision, but then knew better and closed it again. He shrugged. Then got up and left the class without another word.

Deep down, Hermione knew that she should just leave it at that, take a deep breathe and then just continue with her lesson. But poor Mister Meddow had hit a sore point. So, Hermione raised her voice again, this time directed at the whole class.

“I want you all to listen very carefully, to what I have to say now.”

Immediately, the whole class stopped their practice, and everybody looked at her. In the back, Professor Black was slowly shaking her head, but in her rage, Hermione barely even noticed.

“I honestly couldn’t care less from what kind of family you come from, but if you’re from a pureblood family and cannot leave the completely outdated and, quite frankly, absolutely stupid beliefs of your families out of this class, then you really shouldn’t be here.” Her voice was getting louder now, almost shrieking, “How dare you putting yourself above those brave creatures? Who do you think you are for treating them like some sort of slaves? This behavior is one of the dumbest I have ever seen. You all are rather intelligent beings, so what in Merlin’s name makes you act like stupid fools? Have you learned nothing from history?”

Some of Hermione’s students started to shift uncomfortably in their seats. Most probably hadn’t even realized what was going on and were now slowly trying to put the pieces together. Still, nobody dared to look up. Nobody but Professor Black. Hermione could feel her dark orbs piercing into her body. It certainly took all of her self-control not to intervene. But Hermione didn’t care, stopped caring when Mister Meddow started poisoning her classroom with his presumptuous and arrogant act. So, she just went on with her rant. She got completely lost in her lecture about why house-elves deserves to be treated like human beings and how lost the wizarding world would be without them. It was almost as if she was back in her 5th year at Hogwarts. The only one willing to fight for the elves, the only one who cared.

She only stopped when one of her students carefully raised her hand to tell her that the class had already been over for ten minutes. Hermione looked around confused. Then she quickly dismissed her students, without an apology for the delay. They all left with dropped shoulders, some of them were quietly whispering, but absolutely none of them managed to improve their facial transfiguration spells in the slightest today.

Hermione turned around. She couldn’t stand to look at the mess in front of her any longer. The mess that she created. Instead, she took some deep breathes, trying to calm herself, to get some of her composure back. She wasn’t really successful and when she turned back around and noticed that Professor Black was the only one still remaining in the room, she was still boiling of anger.

Black was making her way to the front of the class now, slowly clapping her hands, apparently just as angry. Her face was completely emotionless and when she started to speak, her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “And that is how you successfully mess up a whole class. Congratulations, Miss Granger. What a waste.”

Hermione wasn’t having it. Instead of backing down, she immediately shot back. “So, educating my students about basic human decency is a waste now?”

“You didn’t educate them. You insulted them, all of them, insulted their families and their traditions. Letting your personal beliefs throwing you off so easily is nothing but foolish.”

That made Hermione laugh out loud. “Are you seriously trying to lecture me right now about not insulting my students? You of all people? Did someone obliviate you and made you forget how you usually treat your students? Heck, you have probably insulted me more times than taught me something useful.”

“Careful now, Pet,” Bellatrix’s voice was dangerously calm now. She had reached the front of the class but decided to keep a safe distance between her and Hermione. “I have been a professor for most of my life now. I come from a prestigious family; I am one of the most gifted witches this world has ever seen. I can do whatever I please, and nobody would dare to question me.”

Hermione snorted.

“Of course, now is the time for you to hide behind your oh so amazing reputation. Honestly, the way you purebloods think is beyond me. How would you have reacted in my place? You probably would have even given him housepoints for his amusing little performance, wouldn’t you?”

Bellatrix took a couple of steps towards Hermione. Despite her attempts to stay calm and in control, Hermione could see how much the older witch was struggling not to draw her wand and solve this conflict in her way. Her breathe had quickened, her chest was heavily rising and falling.

“How dare you?” Black kept moving towards Hermione, causing her to slowly back down until she felt the cold stone of the wall pressing into her back. “How dare you judging me? You’re nothing but a pathetic little mudblo-“ She caught herself in the last second. Still, the use of the all too familiar insults evoked a new wave of anger inside of Hermione.

“What did you just call me?”

“It doesn’t matter what I just almost called you. My point remains. You _muggleborns_ have no idea of honor and tradition. You understand nothing.”

Black was now pressing her against the wall. Her fingers painfully grasping Hermione’s shoulders. But Hermione didn’t even flinch.

“The only person that doesn’t understand a thing is you!”

The other witch took a couple of moments to reply to that. This brief moment of silence was enough to ground Hermione a little bit and made her realize, how close Professor Black actually was. Their noses were almost touching. She could feel Black’s breathe on her face, her wild, dark curls grazing her cheeks, almost tickling her.

Suddenly, she was also very much aware of Black’s breasts being pressed into hers, the contact pushing them even more up than usual. Hermione’s gaze involuntarily fell on the other woman’s lips. She wondered what would happen, if she’d just close the tiny gap between them. This would definitely be a successful way to shut Black up.

It was almost as if invisible strings seem to pull them closer together. When Hermione lifted her gaze again, she met dark brown eyes, carefully studying her own. Professor Black let out a quiet sigh, the Hermione could feel her slowly lean in.

Then, right before their lips touched, sudden realization flashed over Black’s face. It was only a split second, but Hermione could’ve sworn the older witch actually looked… scared? Then the moment was over. Professor Black stumbled backwards, slowly shaking her head. She turned around and rushed out of the room without another word, leaving a confused and slightly breathless Hermione behind, who slowly let herself slide down the wall and buried her head in her hands. What the hell had just happened?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back!!  
> Many of you asked for another chapter from Bella's POV - so I really hope you enjoy this. As always, thank you for the awesome feedback :)

**Chapter 9**

_POV Bellatrix_

Bellatrix stormed into her quarters and let the door fall shut with a loud bang. She slumped onto her couch, let out a loud sigh and buried her head inside her hands. Her mind was still processing the events of the last hours. What in Merlin’s name had just happened? Well, she knew fairly well what had _almost_ just happened – The more important question was, how could she let it come so far? How could she let herself lose control like that?

She couldn’t deny that she had begun to genuinely enjoy the company of Hermione. The young witch had turned out to be one of the few people that could actually keep up with her intellect. Their conversations had always been fruitful and Bellatrix had found it surprisingly pleasing to have another conversation partner despite Minerva, that would challenge her mind and wouldn’t back down from an argument. Hermione was brilliantly witty and even managed to draw one of Bellatrix’s genuine laughs from her every once in a while.

What she enjoyed most about Hermione’s presence, however, was the way the younger witch responded to her, how her body responded to her teasing, her touches and the sound of her voice. She found it incredibly amusing to watch the younger witch struggling with her obvious attraction to Bellatrix. It didn’t need a Legilimens to see her inner conflict washing over her face, whenever she was close to Bellatrix and how much she was fighting to hide it.

She could still see the look of pure panic on her face when Bellatrix had helped her with her posture and confidence that afternoon in the Transfiguration classroom. She had found it quite funny to watch the younger witch freeze completely on the spot, when she had started to get closer to her. How her pupils dilated and her breathing quickened as Bellatrix started to touch her and she how tiny goosebumps erupted all over her body as she quietly whispered in her ear.

It had been a bit of a struggle to hide her own arousal that the rather unexpected, strong responsiveness of Hermione caused her. This had been the first time she had actually come close to lose some of her composure in front of the younger witch. Still, she had managed to stay in control. After all it had just been some innocent teasing, purely for her own amusement. 

Her only intention had been to watch Hermione squirm and lose some of her uptight correctness, it all had absolutely nothing to do with the tingling feeling that Hermione’s behavior was causing inside her own stomach for quite a while now. She had not enjoyed this in the slightest – well, maybe only a little bit.

After that day, she had caught herself staring at the younger witch even more frequently. She started to notice tiny things about her behavior, the way she slightly wrinkled her nose whenever she was completely immersed in reading a particular interesting book, how she kept biting her lip when she was deep in thought and believed nobody was watching.

And, well, she wasn’t blind, and Hermione definitely not unattractive. She had clearly developed some curves over the last year and she found herself especially drawn to her smile. Watching her genuinely smile, was still a much rarer occasion then before the war, but once she did, her smile seemed to spread over her whole face, making even her eyes sparkle and Bellatrix heart beating a bit faster.

It was only now that she realized, she had been referring to the other witch as Hermione that whole time. She internally cursed herself for that thought. What had happened to Miss Granger? She definitely was getting soft.

Still, today shouldn’t have happened – wouldn’t have happened if Bellatrix hadn’t let herself getting distracted by Hermione’s words. She should’ve prevented this from happening, right when Hermione had started to lose control in her lesson.

At first Bellatrix had found her outburst quite amusing, that amusement, however, had quickly been covered by her own rage starting to boil inside her. She knew she was not particularly known for treating her students fair and gentle, still Hermione had gone a step to far. She had gotten so lost in her rambling, that she completely forgot to pay any attention the students around her.

Apart from that, Bellatrix was also a very proud witch. Despite clearly distancing herself from some of her family’s values and beliefs, she still grew up learning to appreciate most of the pureblood traditions. Many things that happened to her during her childhood had been incredibly horrible, some of them were still giving her nightmares up until this day. Still, there had also been many good moments, moments that had played a large part in turning her into the person she was today – and while she clearly wasn’t very font of herself, it had still taught her how to stand up for herself and gave her magical abilities, many other witches and wizards could only dream of. So, hearing Hermione ranting about how all Purebloods were barbaric idiots, probably raised by wolves, had not exactly left her completely unaffected.

However, what she still couldn’t quite forgive herself was how she had let her anger take control and had immediately fallen back into old patterns. She had been able to stop herself in the last second from calling Hermione a mudblood, but the damage had already been done. Time had proven to her that blood superiority had been nothing but pure bullshit, but old habits die hard. Pretending to be an obsessive Death Eater for more than a decade just didn’t pass without leaving its marks. Bellatrix had been to proud from apologizing properly, but that didn’t stop her from internally cursing herself for that mistake.

Thinking about it now, her disappointment in herself for that remark had probably only been one more factor that had led to her sudden outburst. For a second, when she watched Hermione pressed against the wall, all flustered and heavily breathing, her emotions had taken the upper hand. She was only glad she had come to her senses before it had been too late.

Whatever had been about to happen, it wouldn’t. It couldn’t.

Over the year Bellatrix had learnt many important lessons, but the most important one had definitely been not to let anyone close to her and to keep her guard up at all cost. Letting people into her life, would only result in them getting hurt – that was the one thing the past had made clear to her.

The last time she had let someone in, had opened up to someone and had trusted someone had ended in Severus Snape dead on the floor. He had died in a foolish attempt to protect her, to keep her cover in place. In the end it had all been for nothing.

All she had ever done was bringing pain and misery into people’s life and while there definitely seemed to be a tiny spark between her and Hermione, she just couldn’t allow that spark to grow into anything more. No matter what her thoughts about the younger witch were, she definitely deserved better than this. Better than an old hag, drowning in her own self-loathing.

This night Bellatrix’s dreams were filled with images she usually tried to suppress by all means. Severus’ weak body on the floor, begging her to leave him be and save herself. Alice screaming at her in agony after she broke up with her to jump head over heels into an arranged marriage with Rodolphus, just like her family had expected of her. Her shouting when she thought Bellatrix would actually join Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. It was the last time she ever spoke to her. A week later she had been tortured into insanity and the Dark Lord had made her watch, only to let her prove her loyalties. She had never even gotten the chance to explain everything to her properly. Andy’s crying when her parents found out about her relationship with a muggle because of a mistake that Bellatrix had made.

When sleep finally released her from her nightmares, she was drenched in sweat. This night had been one of the worst in a while, but it had definitely made one thing even clearer to her. She needed to push Hermione out of her life. As far as possible. It was only for her own good.

Bellatrix did her best to make herself look presentable, but even the strongest spell couldn’t completely cover the dark rings below her eyes for long. She quickly drank a potion against the pounding headache that was already beginning to form inside her head and only managed to drink a cup of tea for breakfast.

Then she was on her way to Minerva’s office, where she would meet with the ministry officials before they’d observe Hermione’s class. She only hoped her actions from the previous day wouldn’t affect Hermione too much. She needed to put her complete focus into the lesson and couldn’t let any foolish thought or insecurities distract her.

She was pleased to find Madame Miraforum already sitting in Minerva’s office. The French witch had transferred to the educational department a couple of moths ago, after working in the Department for rule translation. Bellatrix had worked with her before when she needed help with some especially complicated Runes for a spell she was working on, and found the witch to be a rather quiet but still somewhat enjoyable company. She gave the other witch a friendly nod. Then her eyes fell on the woman sitting beside her and she could feel her stomach dropping.

Sitting beside Madame Miraforum was a tall, slender witch with light brown hair, reaching barely up to her chin. Loretta Katerfield looked exactly like she did six month ago, when Bellatrix had last seen her. Though Last time she had been wearing a considerably less amount of clothes, when Bellatrix had left her still asleep without a word or note after the night they had spent together.

They had met during a conference that Minerva had forced her to attend in her place and had driven each other crazy the whole day. Bellatrix still couldn’t quite recall how she ended up naked and panting, pinning the other woman down on the bed. She only knew that afterwards Loretta had attempted to contact her several times. She hadn’t reacted to a single one of her owls.

Bellatrix let out a silent curse.

“That has to be a god damn joke.”

Minerva raised an eyebrow at that.

“What was that Bellatrix?”

When Bellatrix only shrugged, she pointed at the free chair at her table.

“Please join us. I believe you already know each other?”

Bellatrix and Madame Miraforum only nodded, but Loretta actually had the audacity to address Bellatrix directly.

“You could say that. Professor McGonagall was just telling us about Miss Granger’s progress. She actually seems like quite a smart witch. I am surprised she managed to work with you for so long.”

“Absolutely none of your concern.”

But Loretta ignored Bellatrix’s snarky remark and went on.

“Or should I rather say, it’s a miracle that you managed to endure her for so long? You seem more like a “One-Night” kind of woman, Bellatrix.”

The accusation in her voice was unmistakable and Bellatrix let out a snort.

“Believe me, _Loretta,_ you will find Miss Granger being more than capable to live up to my expectation.”

Minerva was watching the exchange between the two women with great interest, but then chuckled slightly and interrupted them.

“I am sure there will be plenty of time to catch up later. But Miss Granger and her class are waiting for us. Shall we?”

Bellatrix only shrugged and got up from her chair. Madame Miraforum and Minerva had already made their way down the stairs, when she quickly grabbed Loretta’s arm and hold her back.

“Don’t you dare to use this as an excuse to get back at me for anything that happened between u.s” Bellatrix pressed out between gritted teeth, “It was my decision not to return any of your advances. Hermione had nothing to do with it.”

When Bellatrix noticed her mistake, Loretta had already raised an eyebrow in question.

“Hermione, huh?”

“Stay out of it. I’m serious. I don’t think I’ll need to show you what I’m capable of.” Her voice was as cold as steel now, leaving absolutely no room for objections. “You really don’t want me as your enemy.”

With that she turned on her heels, followed Madame Miraforum and Minerva down the stairs and left a slightly perplex Loretta behind.

As it turned out, her worries about Hermione messing up were totally unnecessary. The younger witch had planned a lesson on the vanishing spell, _Evanesco,_ with her 4th year students.

When their group entered the classroom, Hermione was already waiting for them behind her desk. Bellatrix noticed immediately that she was incredibly nervous. She was doing her best to hide it and she was sure none of the other witches even noticed, but over the last months she had learnt to read Hermione pretty well.

At the sight of the overly tense Hermione, Bellatrix couldn’t help but feel a slight twitch in her own stomach. But as soon as the students entered the classroom, the nervousness seemed to vanish from Hermione’s body.

She stayed focused the whole time, even managed to throw in a joke every now and then. All of her students behaved exceptionally well. They participated eagerly, asked questions and showed clear improvements in their spells by the end of the lesson.

Bellatrix also noticed how much Hermione’s general behavior in front of the students had changed. There was barely anything left of the insecure young woman, who hadn’t even managed to look their students in the eyes, when something unexpected had been happening. Hermione stood tall and confident, spoke with clear and loud voice and seemed to have her eyes everywhere at once, making sure every single one of her students was paying full attention.

When Hermione ended her class with some encouraging words and released her students, Bellatrix felt a wave of pride wash over her. Beside her, Minerva was smiling widely and Madame Miraforum sent an approving nod in Hermione’s direction. Loretta was still scribbling down some notes and Bellatrix was already mentally preparing herself for another fight with her, but when she got up from her chair she only mustered Hermione curiously from head to toe.

“Very well Miss Granger. We will discuss your class in more detail later.”

Madame Miraforum nodded in agreement.

“Oui, oui, Miss Granger. That was very well done.”

Hermione was beaming almost as much as McGonagall now, visibly relieved at how well the lesson had gone.

It took Bellatrix all her years of trained self-control, not to give in to her emotions and acknowledge Hermione’s success as well. But when the younger witch tried to lock eyes with Bellatrix, still smiling proudly, her own face remained completely blank.

Instead she turned to the witches seated beside her, her voice hard and cold.

“Well, I guess this wasn’t a complete disaster. I assume my presence here is no longer needed. I will join you at the evaluation later, now I have more pressing matters to attend.”

The effects of her words on Hermione were immediate. Her smile faltered, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and hurt flashed over her face.

Bellatrix gulped. She knew her behavior would hurt Hermione, but she still turned around and left the room without another word. It was for the best.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again. Someone pointed out that they felt the last chapter had been a bit rushed - kudos to them for actually recognizing that it has in fact been written fairly quickly. Sorry for that. I hope I did better with this one, it definitely cost me way more time than intended haha.   
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 10**

_POV Hermione_

Another two weeks had passed since Hermione’s class examination. She was still very proud of herself for getting almost entirely positive feedback. Maybe becoming a teacher at Hogwarts wasn’t that much of a hopeless endeavor after all.

Hermione had also found herself getting along quite well with Madame Miraforum, one of the two ministry officials. They had quickly discovered their shared interest in old runes and Hermione had already ordered one of her books to read later on.

The other witch, however, Miss Katerfield, had been much more of a mystery to Hermione. Despite being quite kind about her lesson and only giving constructive feedback, the feeling she gave Hermione was a little bit odd.

She had caught the other witch intensely staring at her when she had probably thought she was too deep in discussion with Madame Miraforum to notice. It had almost seemed as if she had been desperately trying to read Hermione, to find something about her that would make her vulnerable. So, Hermione had been overly-cautious to keep her mental barriers up and had always been taking an extra minute to carefully overthink her words, before she answered a question of the other witch. Hermione had also noticed the strange tone her voice had been taking, whenever Professor Black’s mentorship had been mentioned. It had almost appeared as if the two witches had had some sort of shared history and Hermione had been quite curious to learn more about this at some later point.

Right now, however, talking with Professor Black about something as banal as some potentially long-forgotten quarrel was definitely out of the question.

In fact, the older witch was the main reason why Hermione couldn’t be entirely happy about her achievement. The missing approval of Black had hit Hermione deeper than she cared to admit. Ever since the day she had her pressed against the wall and Hermione had come so incredibly close to tasting that deliciously red lips, Professor Black was treating her worse than ever before.

Where only a couple of days ago had been playful banter and teasing comments, occasionally even a true smile, was now nothing but a rare snarky remark pointing out one of Hermione’s foolish mistakes. Black was fully back to her cold, defensive self. She offered Hermione barely more than a quick glance in her direction, always left her classes right after, without a word and whenever she actually bothered to give Hermione some sort of feedback, it always arrived late at night in form of a short, scribbled note, delivered her owl.

Hermione would never admit it out loud but the rejection hurt her. She really thought she and Professor Black were getting somewhere and now she seemed further away from her than ever before.

Another reason for Hermione’s broody mood was the fact that slowly but surely, Christmas was coming closer. When she was a child, Christmas had been her favorite holiday. She had loved the excitement it had brought her, the joy of unwrapping presents and completely overeating herself, and had enjoyed all the time she had spent with her family. But by now, Christmas had only turned into another tool of showing her what she had lost. It reminded her too much of Ron, of the happy times she had spent with all of the Weasley’s at the Burrow. Last year, her friends and family had been doing their best to help her forget, to help themselves forget, but when they sat around Molly’s table, the two empty seats were more present than ever before.

Above all, her nightmares had come back. They hadn’t been that frequent and hadn’t felt that real ever since she started teaching at Hogwarts. Now, she barely managed to sleep at night and was getting more and more exhausted with each passing day. She had given up on sleeping potions months ago because they always left her with a numb feeling and a horrible headache, but at this point, she was seriously considering giving them another try.

Now, there was only one thing Hermione always did when she was sad and exhausted – loading herself with even more work, to somehow distract herself from her thoughts. That was why she had immediately volunteered when McGonagall had been looking for volunteers to help with the Christmas ball preparations.

Hermione dived right into the preparations. As time was passing, she could feel herself getting genuinely excited for the ball and was confident that it would give her some kind of distraction from everything happening.

One afternoon she met up with Ginny in Diagon Alley to go dress shopping. She usually hated that kind of stuff but Ginny had made it her personal goal to find the perfect outfit for Hermione.

“You know Mione, there will not only be your students at that ball. They will bring their families, especially their potentially very hot older brothers.” Ginny suggestively wiggled her eyebrows. “You never know who you are going to meet.”

Hermione only shrugged her shoulders, not even bothering to explain to Ginny that a hot older brother wasn’t exactly what she was looking for right now. A hot, older professor on the other hand… But trying to explain that to Ginny would probably not exactly be a very smart move. So, for now, she kept her mouth shut and let her best friend drag her from one shop to the next.

In the end, however, she had to admit that the dress Ginny had found was absolutely gorgeous. It’s cream-colored fabric, was clinging tight to her body and hugged all of her curves in exactly the right places. The round neckline showed just the right amount of cleavage to still feel appropriate. On its fabric were tiny, silver, woven ornaments that stretched over the whole dress, seamlessly transitioning onto its train.

When the day of the ball was finally there, Ginny also insisted on personally coming to the castle to help Hermione to get ready. Hermione really didn’t want to make such a fuss but once the red-head had been pretty persistent.

After Ginny spent way too much time and effort using several spells on Hermione’s hair and face and helped her into her dress, she looked at her, obviously very pleased with her work. Hermione’s hair was falling in soft, shiny curls down on her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. Ginny had colored her lips in a dark shade of red but kept the rest of the make-up relatively light and natural, putting the focus mainly on the absolutely gorgeous dress.

Ginny nodded approvingly.

“Even if there is nobody in specific that you try to impress,” Now why were images of Professor Black already starting to flash up in her mind again? “But all eyes will be on you that night!” Well, as long as one specific pair of chocolate brown eyes was among them, then so be it.

Hermione took a last deep breath and then made her way down to the Great Hall.

After she arrived in the Great Hall, quite a few heads were turning in her direction. Hermione felt a bit awkward. By now she might’ve gotten used to her students staring at her during her classes, but that was an entirely different matter. She sent out some shy smiles but was mainly trying to stay low.

She was grateful when McGonagall showed up on her side and eagerly engaged her in a conversation about the schedule for the night. Still, Hermione couldn’t quite help herself and constantly scanned the hall for a familiar mess of black curls.

When she finally spotted said black curls, she had to stop her mouth from falling open on its own accord. Was it even legal to show up to a school ball dressed like that? Ironically, the first thing Hermione noticed, was that Professor Black was missing her usual corset. Not that it would’ve been necessary, her strapless dress was so tight, that it naturally lifted up her breasts in a way that made it impossible not to stare. To absolutely nobody’s surprise, was the dress colored in a deep black, complemented by some threads of gold, weaving an elegant pattern into the fabric. Her black mane was tamed in an impressive updo, emphasizing the elegant features of her face. As Professor Black started to gracefully move through the crowd, Hermione noticed with a gulp, that the dress also had a slit, that reached almost up to her thigh and revealed deliciously creamy skin with every step.

The room suddenly felt very hot.

“Hermione, dear, did you hear me? Are you alright?” McGonagall’s slightly worried voice pulled her out of her drooling and she forced herself to tear her eyes away from her mentor.

“Sorry, yes I’m fine don’t worry. I will just head outside for a while to get some air.”

After Hermione went outside and took a couple of minutes to calm herself, she returned to the party. She desperately wanted to walk over to Professor Black and talk to her, maybe get her a drink, but definitely get her out of this dress and into her bed.

“Damn it, not again.” Hermione internally cursed herself for her thoughts inappropriately drifting off to the older witch yet again.

She cannot be interested in Black like that, after all, the older witch had made it more than clear that she wasn’t interested in Hermione in that way. That nothing would ever happen between them. In fact, if Black could hear her thoughts rights now, she would probably rip her apart right in front of everyone – and not in a good way.

So, Hermione forced herself to put her focus back on the crowd of people in front of her.

This turned out to be not one of her smartest decisions. The loud music, the dancing, and laughing people, the slight smell of sweat in the air was slowly starting to get to her. It all started to trigger memories deep inside of Hermione. Memories she had been trying to suppress at all cost. Memories of the last time she was one of the people wildly dancing in the crowd, completely carefree, not knowing what had been about to hit her. Memories of Ron playfully twirling her around, a huge grin on his face. Memories of Bill and Fleur happily cheering to their wedding guests. Memories of Kingsley’s Patronus appearing inside the tent, replacing the joyful atmosphere with nothing but fear and panic. Memories of everything going downhill from there.

Hermione was grabbing the nearest wall, in an attempt to steady herself. She tried to calm her breathing, letting her gaze wander through the hall, looking for something to focus on. What she found were two dark brown orbs piercing into her.

She locked her own gaze with the one of Professor Black, standing at the other side of the room and much to her own surprise, the older witch didn’t look away, but hold her gaze, her face completely blank. They kept staring at each other like that for what felt to Hermione like minutes but were probably only a couple of seconds.

This moment reminded Hermione a lot of the Sorting Hat ceremony in the Great Hall at the beginning of the term. Yet again, Black seemed to sense her distress through the whole room. This time, however, Hermione didn’t back down. This time she held Professor Black’s gaze and tried to put all the questions she didn’t dare to ask in their silent exchange.

Why do you always pretend not to care, when you probably care more than anyone else? Why are you so afraid of letting anyone in? Of letting me in? Why did you push me away? What am I to you?

There was no way that Black had managed to read her thoughts in a room like this, crowded with people, still, Hermione was almost certain to see a flash of understanding wash over the older witch’s face. Understanding and… regret?

Just when it looked like Professor Black would actually start to make her way through the dancing people towards Hermione, she felt a tiny hand on her arm. Looking to her right, she discovered Professor Flitwick, a slightly worried look on his face. Apparently, Professor Black wasn’t the only Hogwarts teacher that was paying attention to the behavior of the people around them.

“Miss Granger, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” His voice was warm and concerned, yet he didn’t push Hermione for any form of justification. Instead, he only raised an eyebrow in question. “I feel like you could use a distraction.” Then he offered her his arm. “Care for a dance?”

Hermione smiled warmly at the man and nodded, grateful for something to help her mind getting away from its dark thoughts. Still, when she followed Flitwick on the dancefloor, it was with a little regret about her interrupted exchange with Black. She was sure she could still feel the other witch’s gaze burning in her back when she slowly made her way to the center of the room.

Her former Charms professor was a surprisingly good dancer and soon enough Hermione was really starting to enjoy herself. At some point she noticed Black leaving the Great Hall out of the corner of her eye, but before she could pay any more attention to it, Flitwick started to twirl her around again and Hermione let out a heartfelt, loud laugh.

Then the music changed – and Hermione froze on the spot. Of all songs in the universe, a muggle song started to play. It was “September” by Earth, Wind and Fire. It had been one of Hermione’s favorite songs – until it was played at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, only seconds before Kingsley’s Patronus had arrived and everything had gone to chaos.

Hermione felt the all too familiar tightening in her chest. The struggle to catch a breath was stronger than ever before. She barely managed to press out a rushed “Excuse me” in the broad direction of Professor Flitwick, then she turned around and made her way towards the door. She was forcing herself not to run, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself, but she could already feel the tears starting to build up behind her eyes. As soon as she exited the hall, she couldn’t hold herself back anymore and tears started to stream down her face. Her steps turned hastier, her thoughts were spiraling and she couldn’t see clearly anymore. Her only goal was to get as far away from that music and all the people celebrating as possible.

She turned around a corner and then felt herself running into a by now all too familiar obstacle. Despite her current state, she didn’t even have to look up to comprehend who she had just crashed into, the hem of a black silk dress with golden ornaments told her more than she needed to know. Still, she tried to collect herself, then lifted her gaze and stared directly at Professor Black.

The other witch had an annoyed expression on her face and was probably just about to let out a snarky remark about Hermione not even being able to walk without messing up when her eyes landed on the tear-stained face of the younger witch, and her whole expression changed immediately.

“What happened?” Professor Black was struggling to keep her voice emotionless. Hermione could hear her worried undertone. At that moment, the real Bellatrix Black was making one of her rare appearances. She was back to the person Hermione had started to get to know her as before everything went downhill and Black had run away from her. 

“It’s nothing,” Hermione muttered, not quite trusting her voice.

But Black was not having it.

“Yeah, well obviously. You’re running around completely distraught. You are crying hysterically and barely manage to form coherent words.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “But that’s obviously just normal behavior. Happens every day just because you feel like it.”

Hermione only sniffed, but Black wasn’t letting her off the hook that easily.

“Granger, seriously, cut the crap. What is going on?”

Her insistence made something inside Hermione snap.

“You want to know what’s going on? Well, I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Her words came out louder and more aggressive than she intended, but she couldn’t care less. “I act calm on the outside, but on the inside, I’m so angry at myself that I think I’m going to explode. All the misery and pain I’ve seen and just can’t let go of makes me want to scream. My own weakness makes me want to scream, the way how within minutes, the tiniest things can trigger a breakdown that will make me forget everything around me. I need to let go; I need to move on – but I just can’t. Instead, I lock everything down. I lock it down because I have to be calm and rational because that’s how everyone expects me to be.”

Hermione was panting now, completely caught up in her outburst. Black was only watching her, a calm expression on her face. But Hermione didn’t give her any time to reply anyway.

“Whenever I feel like I finally got it together, something else happens that throws me off completely. I get upset about the tiniest things. Heck, last night I cried because I miss my otter.”

Under different circumstances, the look of pure confusion on Black’s face would’ve made Hermione laugh. Now, she only hurried to clarify.

“My Patronus. Can you believe that I can’t even produce a Patronus anymore since I have watched Ronald die? People had to deal with so many losses, with so much worse than me, yet here I am – the weak muggleborn, too overwhelmed to deal with her own grief.”

Her voice faded into a quiet whisper, slowly breaking away and she could feel the tears welling up again.

“I am completely broken.”

Until then, Black still hadn’t said a single word. She had only stood there, frozen in place, and had listened to Hermione’s outburst. But now she did something, that probably surprised herself just as much as Hermione.

Black slowly stepped forward tentatively, hesitance written all over her face. Still, she slowly wrapped her arms around the slightly shaking Hermione, pulling her into a stiff hug.

The hug caught Hermione off-guard and she didn’t quite know how to react. She only stood there in the cold hallway, arms pressed to her sides, haltingly accepting that little gesture of comfort.

Then, Black was slowly leaning forward, carefully adjusting a strand of Hermione’s hair behind her ear. Hermione could feel her lips moving incredibly close to her skin, could feel Professor Black’s breath. Her voice was barely audible to Hermione when she let out a quick, yet insistent whisper. “You are not broken.”

She patted her back awkwardly and then took a step back, obviously very uncomfortable with the intimacy of the whole situation. Hermione also noticed, that for once it was Professor Black who kept fidgeting with her hands and couldn’t quite look her in the eyes.

After a moment of silence, Hermione coughed in an attempt to ease some of the tension.

“Thank you.”

The older witch only nodded, still taking a great interest in the tip of her boots.

Hermione was trying to find the right words to say but only managed to let out a helpless stutter.

“Well… then…”

Then, Black finally seemed to remember how her tongue worked.

She sent another one of her rare, honest smiles in Hermione’s direction.

“Goodnight Hermione.”

A warm feeling was starting to build inside Hermione’s stomach, slowly washing away some of the pain and exhaustion these last days had caused her.

“Goodnight Bellatrix.”

With that, each of the witches turned around and stalked away to their quarters. Hermione was still pretty shaken up by the events of the evening, but she couldn’t stop a small, tentative smile from sneaking onto her face when she slowly started to process what had just happened.


End file.
